THK 


"TWENTY-  SEVENTH 


A   REGIMENTAL  HISTORY. 


WINTHROP    D.     SHELDON,    A.M., 


LATE   LIEUTENANT   COMPANY    H. 


NEW-HAVEN : 
MORRIS     &     BENHAM. 

1866. 


3- 


3    5 


TO  THE 

OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATE   SOLDIERS 

OF  THK 

TWENTY-SEVENTH    REGIMENT    CONN.   VOLUNTEERS, 

THIS  MEMORIAL  OF  PATRIOTIC  SERVICE 

is 
RESPECTFULLY    INSCRIBED. 


M1985SO 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.  CAMP  NEAR  WASHINGTON, 9 

II.  To  THE  FRONT, 17 

III.  FREDERICKSBURG,     .......  22 

IV.  CAMP  NEAR  FALMOUTII,       .....  33 
V.  CHANCELLORSVILLE,          ......  43 

VI.  ON  TO  RICHMOND,        .         .         .         .         .         .  56 

VII.  GETTYSBURG,  ........  71 

VIII.  IN  MEMORIAM, 89 

IX.  RECORD  OF  CASUALTIES, 100 

X.  CATALOGUE  OF  COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS,       .         .  115 

XI.  PROMOTIONS, .119 

XII.  CATALOGUE  OF  ENLISTED  MEN,    ....  123 


FREDERICKSBUKG, 

December  13th,  1862, 


CHANCELLOESVILLE, 

May  1st,  2d,  aid  3d,  1863. 


GETTYSBUEG, 

July  2d,  3d,  and  4th,  1863. 


THE 

"TWENTY-SEVENTH 

CONK  VOLS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

CAMP     1ST  E  A  E,     WASHINGTON. 

"  As  by  the  west  wind  driven,  the  ocean  waves 
Dash  forward  on  the  far-resounding  shore, 
Wave  upon  wave  :  first  curls  the  ruffled  sea, 
With  whit'ning  crests  ;  anon  with  thundering  roar 
It  breaks  upon  the  beach,  and,  from  the  crags 
Recoiling,  flings  in  giant  curves  its  head 
Aloft,  and  tosses  high  the  wild  sea-spray, 
Column  on  column — so  the  hosts  of  Greece 
Poured  ceaseless  to  the  war." 

HOMER. 

THE  campaign  of  the  Twenty-seventh  Regiment  Con 
necticut  Volunteers  began  in  the  most  critical  and  anx 
ious  period  of  the  war  against  the  rebellion — the  year 
1862.  After  long  months  of  diligent  preparation,  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  opened  the  year  with  its  first 
memorable  advance  against  the  rebel  capital.  The  in 
spiring  faith  of  all  loyal  hearts  followed  every  step  of 
its  progress  up  the  Peninsula,  toward  the  stronghold  of 
treason  ;  and  when  the  shattered  but  undaunted  rem 
nants  retreated  down  the  James  river,  and  hurried  to  the 


•'i*  /-raft  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

defence  of  the  national  capital,  menaced  by  an  exultant 
foe,  deep  was  the  disappointment  which  filled  the  whole 
North.  Every  ear  was  strained  to  catch  the  result  of 
the  conflict  before  Washington,  only  to  hear  that  the 
rebels  had  been  partially  successful,  and  were  crossing 
the  Potomac  into  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania.  Those 
were  days  of  profound  anxiety,  but  not  of  weak  irreso 
lution.  Each  new  disaster  seemed  to  bring  the  people 
nearer  to  a  realization  of  the  magnitude  of  the  struggle, 
and  nerve  them  to  fulfil  the  imperative  duties  of  the 
hour.  The  President,  early  in  July,  issued  his  Proclama 
tion,  calling  for  three  hundred  thousand  men,  to  serve 
for  three  years  ;  and  on  the  fourth  of  August  following 
summoned  to  the  field  three  hundred  thousand  more,  to 
serve  for  nine  months.  The  Twenty-seventh  Regiment 
was  organized  under  this  latter  call.  Its  members  were 
recruited  from  New-Haven  county,  and  mainly  from  the 
city  of  New  -  Haven,  with  considerable  numbers  from 
Madison,  Milford,  Meriden,  Wallingford,  Branford, 
Clinton,  and  Guilford,  and  still  smaller  quotas  from  other 
neighboring  towns. 

The  character  and  material  of  the  regiment  well  illus 
trated  the  heartiness  with  which  all  classes  responded  to 
the  earnest  call  of  the  President  in  those  dark  days  of 
the  Republic.  Every  variety  of  condition  and  employ 
ment  found  representatives  in  the  Twenty-seventh.  The 
agricultural  population  of  the  county  responded  with  a 
goodly  number  of  the  votaries  of  Ceres.  Many  of  the 
most  respected  and  enterprising  mechanics  and  business 
men  of  the  community  laid  aside  for  a  season  the  im 
plements  of  their  labor  to  join  its  ranks.  Members 
of  the  press  exchanged  pen  and  type  for  sword  and 
bayonet.  There  were  also  several  accomplished  engi- 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEEKS.  11 

neers  in  the  regiment,  one  of  whom  was  detailed  in  that 
department,  on  the  staff  of  General  "W.  S.  Hancock,  and 
had  charge  of  the  General's  topographical  maps  and 
plans  of  battles.  The  public  schools  of  the  city  con 
tributed  one  of  their  most  esteemed  teachers,  who  gave 
his  life  on  the  field  of  Fredericksburg ;  and  in  the  room 
where  of  yore  he  so  successfully  led  on  his  pupils  from 
step  to  step  in  knowledge,  hangs  his  portrait,  to  them  a 
daily-recurring  lesson  of  noble  patriotism  and  self-devo 
tion.  Also  the  various  professions  furnished  of  their 
members  ;  and  old  Yale,  never  faithless  to  the  patriotic 
instincts  of  her  Revolutionary  sons,  was  represented  by 
several  of  her  graduates  and  students,  one  of  whom  was 
a  color-bearer  of  the  regiment  at  Fredericksburg,  Chan- 
cellorsville,  and  Gettysburg. 

The  first  company  went  into  camp  at  Camp  Terry, 
New-Haven,  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  and  by  the 
middle  of  September  the  whole  number  of  companies 
were  on  the  ground,  with  nearly  a  full  quota  of  men. 
Being  technically  a  militia  regiment,  the  choice  of  field 
officers  was  vested  in  those  of  the  line.  Richard  S. 
Bostwick,  of  New-Haven,  was  elected  Colonel;  Henry 
C.  Merwin,  of  the  same  place,  Lieutenant-Colonel ;  and 
Theodore  Byxbee,  of  Meriden,  Major  ;  all  of  whom, 
with  a  number  of  the  company  officers,  had  been  con 
nected  with  the  three-months  volunteers  at  the  begin 
ning  of  the  war.  After  several  weeks  spent  in  perfect 
ing  the  organization  and  equipment,  the  regiment  was 
mustered  into  the  United  States  service,  October  twen 
ty-second,  1862,  for  the  term  of  nine  months,  and  started 
for  the  field  in  the  evening  of  that  day,  numbering  eight 
hundred  and  twenty-nine,  rank  and  file. 

Without  stopping  to  dwell  upon  the  passage  to  New- 


I>2  -'THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH      x- 

York,  to  Port  Monmouth,'or  upon  'the  generous  hospi- 
tality  of  the  Quaker  City,  and  passing  by  the  night 
journey  to  Baltimore,  succeeded  by  a  day's  rest  bn  the 
pavements  of  that  city,  the  morning1  of- the  twenty^fifth 
found  us  in  Washington.  Camp  Seward,  on  Arlington 
Heights,  is  soon  reached,  and  quickly  long  rows  of  tents 
rear  their  white  roofs  in  General  ~  Le'e's  :  peach  Orchard; 
Possibly  in  other  days  we  should  have  been  summarily 
ejected  by  a  grand  charge  of  that  gentleman's  dusky 
retainers,  or  perhaps  indicted"  in  the  courts  for  presum 
ing  to  trespass  upon  the  domain  of  an  F.  F.  V.,  and 
have  paid  dearly  to  appease  his  injured  feelings.  But 
now  the  crowd  of  slaves  is  dispersed,  and  "  Massa  Lee  " 
is  not  there  to  dispute  our  right  to  possession. 

Our  introduction  to  the  Old  Dominion  would  be  in 
complete  unless  the  foreground  of  the  picture  presented 
to  view  that  bugbear,  Virginia  mud,  which  has  made 
and  unmade  so  many  Generals,  and  stopped  the  wheels 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  with  periodical  regularity. 
We  had  hardly  arrived  at  Camp  Seward  when  the  clouds 
began  to  marshal  their  forces  for  an  illustration  of  their 
power  to  change  the  sacred  soil  into  a  sea  of  mud ;  and 
as  if  to  show  the  minutia3  of  the  forming  process,  it 
began  to  drizzle  slowly;  the  mist  gradually  enlarged 
into  drops,  and  the  soil  grew  softer  and  softer.  As  we 
floundered  about,  we  began  to  realize  that  the  aforesaid 
mud  was  not  altogether  a  myth,  conjured  up  by  ineffi 
cient  commanders  to  excuse  inaction.  The  storm  con 
tinued  at  intervals  during  the  twenty-sixth,  and,  as 
night  approached,  a  strong  wind,  superadded  to  the 
pelting  rain,  swept  howling  over  the  ridge,  tearing  many 
of  our  tents  from  their  uncertain  moorings.  All,  how 
ever,  were  disposed  to  view  philosophically  this  some- 


VOLUNTEERS.  ,'IS 

-what .^unceremonious  .welcome "to  the  soil  of  Virginia, 
-and.  the.  hardships,  of  "a  soldier's  life.   , 

At  -noon  of  the  twentyrseventh :  the  order  came  to 
strike  tenis^  preparatory: to  moving, .our  camp  a  few  miles 
.'Up,the'-PotomaQ.,;Late.-in1the  day: .the  march  began. 
Crossing  .over  ?  into  :.Geprgeto.wn,  \  by  the  Aqueduct 
-Bridge,. and  'following  ; the  ,  picturesque  course  of  the 
river,  up  -to  Chain  Bridge*  we.  return;. to  the  left  bank, 
-and  bivou,ack  for  the  rest  of  4he  night  around  huge  fires. 
-The .next  morning  Camp  Tuttle  assumes  a  veritable  ex- 
-istence,  and  here. the  Twenty-seventh  settle  down,  to  a 
.month's -routine  and  drill,  preliminary  to  the  rough  ex 
perience  of  an  actual  campaign.  Our  camp  was  situated 
.upon  a  rising  ground,  from  which  could  be  seen  the  ma 
jestic  dome  of  the  Capitol.  Some  distance  in  front  of 
the  parade,  and  on  the  left,  were  thick  woods,  while  the 
right  was  skirted  by  a  road,  across  which  were  encamped 
.the  Twenty-fourth  and  Twenty-eighth  New-Jersey,  and 
the  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-seventh  Pennsylvania, 
which,  with  our  own,  regiment,  constituted  a  brigade  of 
Abercrombie's  division  of  the  army,  for  the  defence  of 
Washington.  As  soon,  as  the"  camp  was  established  in 
its  new  location,  the  Colonel  issued  a  regimental  order, 
setting  forth  the  programme  of  daily. duty  as  follows,: 
.Reveille  at  six  A.M.  ;  guard  mounting  at  eight ;  com 
pany  .drill  from  nine  to  eleven,  and  again  from  one 
-to  two  ;  battalion  drill  from  three  to  four,  and  dress  pa 
rade  .at  five  P.M.  ;  tattoo  at  nine,  taps  at  half-past  nine. 
,A11  this  was  varied  by  an  occasional  season  of  picket 
.duty,  a  few  miles  up  the  Leesburg  turnpike.  ,  .  ;..  , 

Qur  first  Sabbath  at  Camp  Tuttle  forms,  in  most  re 
spects,  a  sample  of  all  the  rest.  Sunday  is  to  the  goldicr 
the. most  anomalous  day  of  the  calendar,  especially  if 


14  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

situated,  as  we  were,  without  a  chaplain.  The  weekly 
inspection  and  freedom  from  drill  are  the  chief  points 
which  distinguish  it  from  other  days.  In  the  present 
instance,  however,  an  unexpected  cause  of  excitement 
appeared.  After  dress  parade,  it  was  announced  that  in 
consequence  of  certain  rumored  movements  of  the  enemy 
in  the  direction  of  Leesburg,  it  might  be  necessary  to 
beat  the  long  roll,  to  call  the  regiment  under  arms  at 
any  moment  during  the  night.  Of  course,  the  very 
thought  of  a  rebel  added  new  zest  to  our  military  exist 
ence.  Every  one  was  on  the  qui  vive,  and  made  his  ar 
rangements  to  respond  to  the  call  with  the  utmost 
promptness.  But  the  apprehended  raid  did  not  take 
place,  and  our  rest  was  therefore  undisturbed  by  the 
soul-stirring  notes  of  the  long  roll. 

Every  few  days  a  company  was  detailed  to  go  on 
picket — an  event  not  altogether  unwelcome,  as  a  relief  to 
the  monotonous  round  of  camp  duties,  and  as  an  intro 
duction  to  a  new  phase  of  experience.  To  obtain  some 
idea  of  this  portion  of  our  regimental  life  around  Wash 
ington,  let  us  "  fall  in,"  fully  armed  and  equipped,  and 
follow  one  of  these  parties  to  the  picket-line.  On  the 
present  occasion,  Company  H,  with  detachments  from 
other  regiments,  started  out  one  morning,  and,  after 
marching  several  miles  on  the  Leesburg  Turnpike,  ar 
rived  about  ten  o'clock  at  the  village  of  Langley.  The 
line  of  pickets  extended  along  the  main  road  a  short  dis 
tance  beyond  the  centre  of  the  place,  and  also  along  a 
cross-road,  which,  coming  up  from  the  south,  connects 
with  the  turnpike  just  before  we  reach  the  village. 
Houses,  favorably  situated  at  different  points,  were  oc 
cupied  as  headquarters  of  the  various  squads,  or,  if  such 
conveniences  were  not  at  hand,  brush  huts  supplied  their 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  15 

place.  At  that  time  Langley  consisted  of  about  a  dozen 
houses,  and  one  small  church,  and  had  once  been  favored 
with  two  regular  taverns,  whose  sphere  was  now  filled 
by  two  boarding-houses  of  minor  importance,  one  of 
which  indicated  its  character  to  the  public  by  the  sign  : 


The  dinner  hour  having  arrived,  the  pickets  unanimously 
conclude  to  set  aside  Uncle  Sam's  homely  fare,  and  take 
advantage  of  the  enlarged  facilities  of  entertainment  af 
forded  by  the  village.  Accordingly  they  adjourn  to  one 
of  the  boarding-houses,  kept  by  a  man  of  secession  pro 
clivities,  whose  principles,  however,  do  not  interfere 
with  his  untiring  efforts  to  please.  Such  houses  of  re 
freshment,  where  a  civilized  meal  could  be  obtained,  sit 
uated  as  they  were  here  and  there  along  the  picket-line, 
added  much  to  the  enjoyment  of  these  brief  excursions 
from  camp.  Our  duties  were  not  very  onerous,  requir 
ing  the  attention  of  each  man  two  hours  out  of  every 
six,  and  consisted  in  seeing  that  no  one  passed  along  the 
road,  or  appeared  in  the  vicinity,  without  proper  author 
ity.  In  good  weather,  the  two  days  of  picket  duty,  oc 
curring  once  a  fortnight,  were  quite  agreeable  ;  but  if 
stormy,  they  afforded  good  material  for  the  grumbling 
fraternity. 

In  view  of  the  approach  of  winter,  and  the  probabil 
ity  of  remaining  in  our  present  location  for  some  time, 
it  was  thought  best  to  make  corresponding  preparations. 


16  .       THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH  ': 

Pine  logs,  with  considerable  labor,  were  cut  and  brought 
in  from  the  neighboring  forest,  and   soon  Camp  Tuttle 
began  to  present  an  air  of  comfort  positively  inviting. 
But  after  only  a  'brief  enjoyment  of  our  improved  quar 
ters,  and  as  if  to  remind  us  of  the  uncertainty  always 
attending   the    soldier's    life,    orders   came,    November 
eighteenth,  for  Company  H  to  strike  tents,  pack  up,  and 
march  over  to  Hall's  Hill,  there  to  clear  up  a  place  for 
the  regimental  encampment.     Arriving  on  the  hill  in  a 
pelting   rain,    huge   fires  were  built  of  the  brush  and 
stumps  which  covered  the  ground,  and  by  evening  our 
tents  were  up,  and  we  were   as  comfortable  as  circum 
stances  would  allow.  "  Hearing  of  several  deserted  en 
campments  about  a  mile  distant,  on  Miner's  and  Upton's 
Hills,  many  parties  went  out  the  next  morning  to  secure 
anything  which    might  add  to  their  convenience.      A 
large  barren  plain  was  covered  far  and  wide  with  the 
huts  and  debris  of  a  portion  of  McClellan's  army,  which 
encamped  here  in  the  winter  of  1862.     The  whole  pre 
sented   a  very  curious   and   suggestive    sight.     Mean 
while,  orders  came  to  strike  tents  and  rejoin  the  regi 
ment.     It  appeared  that  all  the  regiments  in  the  vicinity 
were  ordered  to  prepare  for  a  rapid  march.     The.  Army 
of  the  Potomac  had  but  recently  crossed  the  river,  after 
the  battle  of  Antietarn,  in  pursuit  of  Lee,  and  the  enemy 
were  said  to  be  threatening  General :  Sigel,  in  command 
at  Centreville.     In  vie\v  of  this  .state  of  affairs,  the.  re 
serve,  in  the  defences  of  Washington,  was  called  upon 
to  be  ready  for  any  emergency.   .  Returning  to  camp, 
we  found  the  men  earnestly  canvassing  the  nature  of  the 
contemplated  march.     The  orders,  however,  were  coun 
termanded  in  the  evening,  perhaps  in  consequence  of  a 
severe  storm,  which  continued  for  several  days. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  17 


CHAPTER    II. 

TO     THE     FRONT. 

THE  soldier  who  is  untried  in  the  fearful  ordeal  of 
war  looks  forward  with  a  kind  of  adventurous  excite 
ment  to  the  time  wrhen  he  shall  cross  swords  with  the 
enemy ;  and  especially  if  his  heart  is  bound  up  in  the 
cause,  and  his  motives  lie  deeper  than  mere  love  of  ad 
venture,  he  desires  to  stand  at  the  post  of  duty,  though 
it  be  in  the  deadly  charge,  and  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 

At  length  the  last  day  of  November,  a  beautiful  Sab 
bath,  came,  and  with  it  marching  orders.  All  attention 
was  now  concentrated  upon  the  movement  to  take  place 
the  next  day,  at  nine  o'clock.  The  cooks  were  busy  pre 
paring  rations  for  the  march  ;  the  men  were  arranging 
their  traps  in  the  most  portable  form,  and  all  looked  for 
ward  with  eager  interest  to  the  new  scenes  before  us. 
At  the  appointed  time,  on  the  following  morning,  the 
Twenty-seventh,  with  the  other  regiments  in  the  bri 
gade,  began  the  march  for  Washington,  leaving  our  com 
paratively  commodious  A  tents  standing.  Henceforth, 
shelter-tents,  and  for  much  of  the  time  no  tents  at  all, 
were  to  be  our  covering.  Our  final  destination  was  all 
a  mystery,  until,  as  the  days  advanced,  conjecture  was 
enabled,  with  some  probability,  to  fix  upon  Freder- 
1* 


18  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

icksburg.  The  march  across  Chain  Bridge,  through 
Georgetown  and  Washington,  and  down  the  Potomac, 
fifteen  miles,  consumed  the  first  day,  and  that  night  a 
tired  set  slept  beneath  their  shelter-tents,  nestling  in  the 
woods  by  the  road-side. 

By  eight  o'clock,  December  second,  we  were  again  in 
motion,  and  before  sundown  accomplished  the  appointed 
distance  of  twenty  miles,  through  a  pleasant  country, 
divided  into  large  and  apparently  well-cultivated  planta 
tions.  Sambo's  glittering  ivory  and  staring  eyes  gleam 
ed  from  many  gateways,  greeting  us  half  suspiciously. 
One  young  colored  boy  concluded  he  had  been  beaten 
quite  long  enough  by  his  master,  and  not  liking  the  pros 
pect  before  him  if  he  remained  in  slavery,  thought  best 
to  join  the  column,  and  march  to  freedom.  In  anticipa 
tion  of  some  such  proceedings  on  the  part  of  the  colored 
population,  the  planters  of  that  region  patrolled  the 
roads  on  horseback,  watching  our  ranks  as  we  filed  past, 
to  see  if  some  luckless  contraband  were  not  harbored 
therein. 

The  third  day  brought  us  within  three  miles  of  Port 
Tobacco,  and  without  standing  on  ceremony,  we  en 
camped  for  the  night  on  the  grounds  of  a  secessionist 
planter,  and  availed  ourselves  of  his  abundant  store  of 
hay  and  straw.  December  fourth,  we  passed  through 
the  town — a  very  ordinary,  shabby-looking  place,  whose 
secession  population  hardly  deigned  to  glance  at  us, 
except  from  behind  closed  shutters. 

Thus  far  the  weather  had  been  delightful,  but  the  fifth 
day  of  our  march,  and  the  last  on  the  Maryland  side  of 
the  Potomac,  opened  rather  inauspiciously,  and  by  the 
time  we  reached  the  river  bank  at  Liverpool  Point,  a 
cold  rain-storm  had  set  in,  in  which  we  were  obliged  to 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  19 

stand  a  couple  of  hours  awaiting  our  turn  to  be  ferried 
across  to  Acquia  Landing.  At  length  the  rain  changed  into 
driving  snow,  and  when  we  arrived  at  the  Landing,  the 
surrounding  hills  were  white  with  the  generous  deposit. 
The  village  at  Acquia  Creek,  after  being  evacuated  sun 
dry  times,  had  risen  again  from  the  ashes  of  several 
burnings  to  become  the  base  of  supplies  for  Burnside's 
army  before  Fredericksburg.  Busy  carpenters  were 
rearing  storehouses,  eventually  to  take  their  turn  at  con 
flagration,  and  the  offing  was  full  of  vessels  of  every  de 
scription,  loaded  with  stores  to  be  transferred  by  rail  to 
Falmouth. 

In  the  snow  we  disembarked,  and  after  many  delays 
reached  our  camping  ground,  on  a  hill-side,  a  mile  or 
more  up  the  railroad.  It  was  now  evening,  and  the 
prospect  seemed  anything  but  encouraging,  in  view  of 
the  fact  that  the  storm  continued  with  even  augmented 
fury.  We  pitched  our  shelter-tents  and  made  our  beds 
in  the  snow,  and  built  fires,  under  difficulties  which  can 
hardly  be  exaggerated.  To  add  to  the  discomfort  of  the 
case,  our  supplies  were  entirely  exhausted,  and  although 
the  wharves  and  storehouses  at  the  Landing  fairly  groan 
ed  with  pork  and  hard-tack,  we  could  not  obtain  these 
articles,  owing  to  inflexible  red  tape,  and  in  part  to  the 
fact  that  the  railroad  was  monopolized  in  carrying  sub 
sistence  for  the  army  at  Falmouth.  A  very  limited  sup 
ply  of  sawdust  ginger-cakes  constituted  the  universal 
bill  of  fare  until  the  evening  of  the  next  day. 

December  sixth  dawned  upon  us,  cold  and  frosty,  but 
clear — just  such  weather  as  graces  the  month  in  the 
latitude  of  New-England.  The  discomforts  of  the  pre 
ceding  day  were  soon  forgotten  in  the  cheerful  sunshine. 
At  this  time  our  worthy  chaplain,  Rev,  J.  W.  Leek, 


20  -  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

joined  the  regiment.  Though  separated  from  us  in  one 
short  week,  by  reason  of  an  /almost  fatal  wound,  yet  in 
that  brief  period  he  had  gained  the  hearty  respect  and 
esteem  of  all,  and  connected  his  .name  most  honorably 
with  the  history  of  the  Twenty-seventh. 

After  a  rest  of  two  days,  we  bade  adieu  to  Acquia 
Creek  on  the  morning  of  December  eighth,  and  resumed 
our  march  to  Falmouth.  Having  lost  our  way,  the  jour 
ney,  which  properly  required  but  one  day,  occupied 
until  noon  of  the  next,  when  we  arrived, at  the  head 
quarters  of  General  D.  N".  Couch,  at  that  time  in  command 
of  the  Second  Army  Corps.  By  him  the  Twenty-seventh 
was  assigned  to  the  Third  Brigade,  General  S.  K.  Zook's, 
of  the  First  Division,  commanded  by  General  W.  S. 
Hancock.  At  this  time  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was 
divided  into  three  grand  divisions — the  right,  left,  and 
centre — the  first,  of  which  our  corps  formed  a  part,  under 
the  command  of  General  Edwin  V.  Sumncr. 

We  were  now  marched  off  to  our  camping  ground,  a 
short  distance  from  the  Rappahannock  river.  Hence 
forth  the  fortunes  of  the. Twenty-seventh  are  linked  with 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  The  regiment  belonged  to  a 
corps  whose  thinned  ranks  eloquently  testified  to  the 
hard-fought  contests  of  the  Peninsula,  where  it  had  borne 
the  brunt,  always  in  the  fore-front  of  battle,  and  the  last 
to  retire  when  retreat  became  necessary.  The  history 
of  the  Second  proved  it  to  be  one  of  the  most  reliable 
corps  in  the  service  —  always  ready  for  any  desperate 
encounter  under  its  brave  and  fighting  leaders.  The 
famous  Irish  Brigade  formed  a  part  of  our  division. 
Such  being  the  character  and  history  of  the  corps,  it  was 
evident  that  the  Twenty-seventh  must  now  make  up  its 
mind  to  the  severest  of  campaign  service.  Scarcely  were 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  21 

our  tents  up,  when  the  Colonel  received  orders  to  have 
the  company  cooks  prepare  four  days'  rations,  to  be  ready 
by  the  next  morning — the  inevitable  preliminary  to  more 
important  events. 

The  forenoon  of  December  tenth  was  occupied  in  clean 
ing  our  arms  and  preparing  for  an  inspection,  to  take 
place  at  twelve  o'clock,  before  General  Zook  and  staff. 
Perhaps  at  this  point  it  might  be  well  to  speak  of  the 
weapons  the  General  was  called  upon  to  inspect,  and 
which  he  declared  unfit  for  service.  One  of  his  staff,  a 
day  or  two  later,  remarked  :  "  Boys,  if  you  can't  dis 
charge  them,  you  can  use  the  bayonet."  That  certainly 
was  the  most  serviceable  part  of  the  gun.  At  the  outset, 
the  Twenty-seventh,  with  the  exception  of  the  flank 
companies,  was  furnished  with  Austrian  rifles  of  such  an 
inferior  order  that  no  regular  inspector  would  have 
passed  them.  Scarcely  one  of  these  weapons  was  with 
out  defects  in  the  most  essential  particulars.  These  facts 
are  not  mentioned  to  bring  discredit  upon  any  of  the 
authorities  cognizant  of  such  matters,  but  simply  as  a 
matter  of  justice  to  the  regiment.  Doubtless  the  best  ot 
reasons  could  have  been  given  to  justify  the  temporary 
distribution  of  such  arms.  Early,  however,  in  the  fol 
lowing  January,  the  regiment  was  supplied  with  the 
Whitney  rifled  musket,  a  weapon  in  the  highest  degree 
satisfactory  to  all. 


22  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 


CHAPTER    III. 

FKEDERICKSBUKG. 

IN  the  afternoon  of  the  tenth,  two  hundred  and  fifty 
men  of  the  Twenty-seventh  were  detailed  to  picket  along 
the  Rappahannock  above  Falmouth.  During  all  the  fol 
lowing  night  might  be  heard  an  unusual  rumbling  of 
cars,  bringing  up  subsistence  from  Acquia  Creek,  and  the 
rattling  of  ammunition  wagons  and  pontoon  trains,  slow 
ly  moving  to  their  respective  destinations.  At  half- 
past  four,  on  the  morning  of  the  eleventh,  the  Colonel 
passed  around  to  the  officers'  quarters,  giving  orders  to 
have  their  companies  supplied  with  three  days'  rations, 
and  fall  in  by  half-past  six,  in  light  marching  order. 
Let  us  leave  the  scene  of  busy  preparation  in  camp,  and 
for  a  few  moments  view  the  events  transpiring  on  the 
river.  Three  points  had  been  carefully  selected  by  Gen 
eral  Burnside  where  bridges  were  to  be  thrown  across — 
one  a  short  distance  above  the  Lacey  House,  another  a 
few  rods  below  the  railroad  bridge,  and  the  third  about 
two  miles  below  the  city.  Boat  after  boat  is  anchored 
in  its  place ;  plank  after  plank  is  laid  in  quick  succes 
sion,  and  the  river  is  well-nigh  spanned  by  the  trembling 
structure,  when  suddenly  two  signal  guns  break  on  the 
still  night  air,  and  a  sheet  of  flame  bursts  from  houses  on 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  23 

the  opposite  bank,  where  hundreds  of  sharp-shooters  lie 
concealed.  The  defenceless  bridge  builders  are  tempo 
rarily  driven  from  their  work,  while  the  cannon  from  the 
bluffs  behind  belch  forth  a  defiant  response  to  the  rebel 
challenge. 

To  return  to  the  Twenty-seventh.  Promptly  at  half- 
past  six  the  regiment  fell  in  and  joined  the  rest  of  the 
brigade,  a  short  distance  from  camp.  Silently,  through 
woods  and  across  fields,  we  marched  to  the  corps  rendez 
vous,  in  a  deep  hollow  near  the  Phillips  House,  where 
General  Stunner  had  his  headquarters.  On  the  way  we 
passed  long  lines  of  troops  moving  rapidly  to  the  river, 
or  resting  behind  rows  of  musket  stacks.  Here  we  were 
to  remain  until  a  crossing  could  be  effected. 

Meanwhile,  the  frequency  of  cannon  discharges  in 
creases.  Every  moment  another  adds  its  voice  to  the 
swelling  volume,  until  from  twenty  batteries,  comprising 
more  than  a  hundred  guns,  arranged  along  the  banks  of 
the  river,  bursts  a  tempest  of  shot  and  shell  over  the  rebel 
city.  This  continues,  with  little  cessation,  until  noon.  For 
three  hours  following,  only  occasionally  a  gun  disturbs 
the  comparative  quiet.  Then  the  ball  opens  again  with 
renewed  violence.  A  visit  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  over 
looking  the  city,  reveals  columns  of  smoke,  with  now  and 
then  a  flash  of  flame,  testifying  to  the  effectiveness  of  the 
bombardment.  At  the  river,  all  attempts  to  complete 
the  pontoon  bridge  had  hitherto  failed. 

With  particular  interest  we  gazed  upon  a  regiment  of 
the  corps,  as,  tired,  dusty,  and  powder  smeared,  it  re 
joined  us  after  a  protracted  effort  at  the  bridge.  His 
tory  records  but  few  parallels  to  the  more  than  heroic 
valor  which  crowned  that  day's  work.  A  trusty  weapon 
supports  the  soldier's  courage,  but  to  stand,  unarmed, 


24  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH     - 

the  target  of  unerring  sharp-shooters,  unable  to  respond 
to  their  attacks,  and  in  view  of  almost  inevitable  death, 
is  the  highest  test  of  courage.  It  became  evident  that 
the  bridge  could  be  completed  only  by  driving  the  sharp 
shooters  from  the  houses  on  the  opposite  side,  by  a  sud 
den  dash  across  the  river.  This  hazardous  duty  was 
intrusted  to  the  Seventh  Michigan  and  detachments  from 
several  other  regiments,  and  nobly  was  it  performed. 
The  rebels  were  driven  from  their  hiding-places,  the 
bridge  touched  the  opposite  shore,  and  the  first  act  in 
this  fearful  drama  closed.  This  success  was  received 
with  universal  joy,  and  all  attention  now  concentrated  in 
what  the  future  should  unfold.  General  Howard's  divis 
ion  of  the  Second  Corps  crossed  over  into  the  city,  while 
Hancock's  and  French's  bivouacked  for  the  night  in  a 
strip  of  woods  near  the  Phillips  House. 

Early  the  next  morning,  December  twelfth,  we  crossed 
into  Fredericksburg,  over  the  bridge  which  had  cost  so 
much  blood  and  labor  the  preceding  day.  Evidences  of 
the  bombardment  everywhere  presented  themselves,  in 
the  houses  perforated  with  shot  and  shell,  and  in  the  mis 
cellaneous  rubbish  which  hindered  our  progress  through 
the  street.  Mattresses,  pitchers,  chairs,  kitchen  utensils, 
and  other  furniture,  scattered  about  in  grotesque  confu 
sion,  testified  that  those  who  had  passed  the  night  in  the 
town  had  availed  themselves  of  all  the  comforts  within 
reach.  We  moved  down  Water  street,  and  halted  at 
the  first  pontoon  bridge,  a  few  rods  below  the  railroad, 
where  we  encamped  that  day  and  night.  The  Twenty- 
seventh  spent  the  day  in  bridging  gullies  and  mud-holes 
with  boards  and  planks  from  neighboring  fences,  so  that 
the  artillery  could  pass.  Company  B  was  detailed  to  lay 
pontoons  across  a  stream  uniting  with  the  Rappahannock 


CONNECTICUT  YOLUNTEEKS.  25 

just- -b'elow  the  town.  About  the  middle  of  the  after 
noon  the  rebel  batteries  attempted  to  annoy  the  men 
engaged  in  these  preparations,  and  for  a  time  a  very 
brisk  artillery  duel  was  maintained  between  the  oppos 
ing  forces.  Sheltered  as  we  were  by  the  steep  bank,  the 
rebels  could  not  obtain  accurate  range,  and  most  of  the 
shells  shrieked  harmlessly  over  our  heads,  and  fell  into 
the  river  or  struck  on  the  opposite  side. 

At  length  the  eventful  thirteenth  arrived — a  day  full 
of  scenes  and  experiences  which  will  never  fade  from  the 
memory  of  those  who  participated  in  them.  Immedi 
ately  after  breakfast  we  were  marched  up  to  Caroline 
street,  the  principal  street  of  the  town,  parallel  with  the 
river.  Here  the  division  was  formed  in  line  of  battle, 
and  stacked  arms,  while  arrangements  were  being  com- 
-pleted  to  storm  the  heights  back  of  the  city.  Staff  offi 
cers  were.' riding  in  hot  haste  to  and  fro,  carrying  orders, 
or  disposing  the  forces,  and  occasionally  our  division 
general,  Hancock,  rode  slowly  and  proudly  up  and  down 
•the  ;line,  surveying  the  ranks,  his  countenance  wearing 
an  aspect  of  quiet  and  cool  determination.  At  length 
.the.  sound  of  cannonading  comes  to  our  ears  from  below, 
indicating  that  General  Franklin  has  entered  upon  the 
-task  assigned  him,  of  seizing  the  railroad  and  turning  the 
enemy's  flank.  Like  banks  of  keys  in  a  great  organ,  the 
rebel  works  rise  behind  the  town,  and  gradually  the 
chorus  of  notes  bursts  forth  directly  in  front  of  us.  The 
rebel  shell  crash  among  the  houses  or  strike  in  the  street, 
.while  the  batteries  of  the  Second  Corps,  on  the  north 
bank  of  the  Rappahannock,  send  their  shrieking  replies 
over  the  city.  "  Attention !"  rings  out  loud  and  long 
above  the  din.  Every  man  is  in  his  place,  his  musket  at 
a  shoulder.  "  Right  face !"  "  Right  shoulder  shift  arms  !" 


26  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

follow  in  quick  succession.  At  this  moment  General 
Hancock  rides  up  to  the  Twenty-seventh,  and  leaning 
forward  in  his  saddle,  with  his  right  arm  upraised,  briefly 
addresses  them :  "  You  are  the  only  Connecticut  regi 
ment  in  my  division.  Bring  no  dishonor  upon  the  State 
you  represent."  The  order  is  given,  "  Forward !  March !" 
reechoed  by  commanders  of  brigades,  regiments,  and 
companies,  and  we  move  in  quick  time  down  the  street 
to  the  railroad. 

While  the  column  is  moving  on,  let  us  briefly  survey 
the  position  of  the  battle-field.  Fredericksburg  is  situ 
ated  in  a  large  amphitheatre,  admirably  adapted  for 
defence.  Directly  in  the  rear  of  the  town  is  a  smooth 
field  with  a  slightly  ascending  grade,  extending  back  a 
little  less  than  half  a  mile  to  the  telegraph  road,  which  is 
flanked  by  a  stone  wall,  beyond  which  rises  a  ridge  some 
what  abruptly  from  a  hundred  to  a  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  high.  This  range  of  high  ground  extends  as  far  as 
Hazel  Run,  a  little  stream  emptying  into  the  Rappahan- 
nock  just  below  the  lower  edge  of  the  town,  and  in  the 
other  direction  bends  toward  the  river,  which  it  very 
nearly  touches  just  above  Falmouth,  about  a  mile  above 
Fredericksburg.  Rebel  batteries  were  strongly  posted 
along  this  eminence,  so  that  a  front  and  enfilading  fire 
could  be  secured  upon  any  force  advancing  across  the 
level  plateau.  General  Longstreet  was  in  command  of 
these  lines  of  fortifications,  while  Stonewall  Jackson 
commanded  the  rebel  right,  opposite  General  Franklin, 
the  whole  under  the  supreme  direction  of  General  Lee. 
Bearing  in  mind  that  the  task  before  us  was  to  capture 
these  formidable  heights,  let  us  return  to  the  storming 
column. 

Sheltered  in  a  measure  by  the  houses,  it  passes  down 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  27 

Caroline  street  with  little  interruption ;  but  as  soon  as 
we  arrived  at  the  railroad  depot,  several  rebel  guns, 
trained  upon  the  spot  with  fatal  accuracy,  welcome  us 
to  the  encounter.  Very  near  this  point  fell  Captain 
Schweizer,  the  first  of  the  long  list  of  casualties  which 
at  nightfall  told  how  fearfully  the  conflict  had  decimated 
the  ranks  of  the  Twenty-seventh.  Several  were  knocked 
down,  one  of  whom,  leaping  up,  exclaimed  earnestly, 
"  I'll  have  pay  for  that !"  then  springing  to  his  place, 
rushed  on  to  death,  for  no  one  ever  saw  or  heard  of  him 
afterward.  The  division  now  advanced  at  a  double- 
quick  into  the  open  field ;  then,  after  resting  a  few  mo 
ments  on  the  ground,  at  the  order,  "  Charge !"  moved 
by  the  left  flank  with  fixed  bayonets,  passing  French's 
division,  which  had  been  obliged  to  fall  back.  A  second 
brief  rest,  then  on  again,  while  shot  and  shell  plow  the 
ground  in  front,  burst  over  our  heads,  or  make  fearful 
gaps  in  the  line.  Yet  on  we  rush.  The  wounded  are 
left  where  they  fall.  Not  a  word  is  spoken,  not  a  gun 
fired.  As  we  approach  nearer  the  rebel  lines,  all  the 
elements  of  destruction  ingenuity  can  devise  or  position 
afford,  are  concentrated  upon  the  narrow  space.  From 
rows  of  rifle-pits,  protected  by  a  heavy  stone  wall,  bursts 
a  continuous  roll  of  musketry ;  from  neighboring  houses 
flashes  the  deadly  fire  of  sharp-shooters,  while  batteries 
posted  on  the  heights  behind  strong  field-works,  and  sup 
ported  by  infantry,  sweep  the  field  with  shot  and  shell 
and  grape  and  canister.  Enfilading  batteries  on  the 
right  and  left  of  the  rebel  semicircle  pour  in  their  swift 
discharges,  and  behind  us,  the  batteries  of  the  Second 
Corps,  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  shell  the  enemy's 
works  with  little  effect  at  the  distance  of  nearly  three 
thousand  yards,  but  with  so  much  danger  to  the  storm- 


THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

ing  party,  that  General  Couch  orders  •  them  to  cease 
firing.  The  line  now  begins  to  waver,  and,  with  some 
disorder,  presses  forward  to  a  brick  house,  from  which 
a  brisk  musketry  fire  is  kept  :up  in  the  direction  of  the 
stone  wall.  At  this:time  the  various  regiments  became 
mingled '  together,  and,  unfortunately,  at  the  order  to 
deploy  into  line  to  renew  the  charge,  the  Twenty-seventh, 
in  consequence  of.  the  confusion,  separated ,  into,  several 
fragments,  advancing  to.  the.  right  and  left  of  the  house. 
The  time  for  a  sudden  dash-  had  passed,  and  unable 
longer  to  stem  the  avalanche  of  fire,  which  seemed  to 
gather  intensity  as  we  proceeded,  the  charge  was  con 
tinued  only  as  far  as  a  board  fence,  all  full  of  bullet  holes 
and  torn  with  shot,  less  than  a  hundred  yards  from  the 
famous  stone  wall,  as  estimated  by  an  officer  of  .the  regi 
ment  who  afterward  visited  the  spot  under  flag  of  truce. 
With  the  exception  of  a  partially  successful  attempt  to 
approach  still  nearer  the  rebel  rifle-pits,  the  men  remain 
ed  at  this  point  the  rest  of  the  afternoon,  loading  their 
guns  on  the  ground,  then  rising  sufficiently  to  deliveT 
their  fire. 

The  rebel  musketry  continued  with  almost  uninter 
rupted  violence  until  night  overshadowed  the  scene, 
never  entirely  ceasing  in  our  front,  At  times  it  surged 
off  to  another  part  of  the  line,  with  only  a  scattering  fire 
opposite  our  position;  then  rolled  back  again  with  re 
doubled  power,  the  peculiar  rattling  of.  separate ,  dis 
charges  being  fused  into  one  prolonged  sound.  Lines 
of  .rebel  troops  could  be  seen  marching  along  the  ridge,, 
and  running  down  to  aid  their  comrades;  in  the  rifle-pits 
below.  But  for  a  weary  two  hours  no  reenforcement.  ad 
vanced  to  the  support  of  the  Union  forces.  At  one  :time 
appearances  seemed  to  indicate  that  the  rebels  were 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  29- 

about  to  charge  upon  our  feeble  line,  but  a  few  well- 
directed  volleys  admonished  them  to  remain  behind 
their  stone  walls. 

The  Union  artillery  had'  thus  far  accomplished  com 
paratively  little,  owing  to  its  distance  from  the"  rebel 
works,  and  to  the  absence  of  all  favorable  positions 
where  guns  could  be  posted,  on  the  Fredericksburg 
side  of  the  river.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  however,  sev 
eral  guns  took  position  in  the  upper  streets  of  the  city. 
The  battle-field  shook  with  their  combined  discharge. 
Meanwhile  Hancock's  division  had  been  mostly  with 
drawn,  to  give  place  to  the  other  division  of  the  Second 
Corps.  But  many  of  the  Twenty-seventh  and  other 
regiments  remained  at  their  posts,  their  safety  being 
still  more  endangered  if  they  attempted  to  leave  the 
field. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Howard's  division 
advanced  to  the  attack,  to  be  hurled  back  before  the 
overwhelming  fire  of  the  rebels.  Only  a  brief  time  is 
now  left  before  darkness  will  cover  the  scene.  A  final, 
desperate  effort  must  be  made  to  take  the  heights.  Sup 
ported  by  the  batteries  in  the  streets,  a  fresh  division 
advances  into  the  field.  How  splendidly  they  charge ! 
with  what  a  perfect  line !  We  can  look  into  the  faces 
of  the  men  as  they  come  on.  Nothing  apparently  can 
withstand  their  onset.  They  come  steadily  to  within  a 
few  paces  of  where  we  lie.  Then  bursts  forth  from  the 
rebel  works  an  iron  tempest  which  had  scarcely  a  paral 
lel  even  on  that  day.  Showers  of  bullets  went  whist 
ling  by  or  struck  the  ground  in  every  direction,  while 
pieces  of  shell,  bits  of  old  iron,  grape  and  canister, 
rained  down  with  a  dull  sound  as  they  hit  the  earth. 
Arrested  in  its  course,  the  line  wavers,  fires  a  few  vol" 


30  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

leys,  then  scatters  like  chaff.  It  was  now  about  dusk, 
and  many  of  the  Twenty-seventh  who  had  remained  on 
the  field  after  the  withdrawal  of  our  division,  retired 
into  the  city.  At  the  edge  of  the  plateau,  where  a  bat 
tery  was  stationed,  mounted  officers  were  endeavoring 
to  rally  into  some  sort  of  order  the  shattered  remnants 
of  the  division,  whose  magnificent  charge  we  have  just 
described. 

The  aspect  of  Fredericksburg  that  night  cannot  be 
adequately  described.  Lines  of  troops  were  under  arms 
in  the  streets,  ready  to  meet  the  enemy  should  they  at 
tempt  to  follow  up  their  advantage  and  drive  the  army 
across  the  river.  Crowds  of  soldiers,  all  excited  by  the 
events  of  the  day,  moved  rapidly  along  the  sidewalks. 
Processions  of  stretcher  bearers  tenderly  conveyed  their 
mangled  freight  to  the  hospitals.  The  eloquent  red  flag 
waved  from  almost  every  house,  suggesting  that  the 
surgeons  were  diligently  at  work,  while  the  glare  of 
candles  from  the  windows  added  to  the  wildness  of  the 
scene  without. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  bright  and  clear  over 
head,  but  inexpressibly  sad  to  us ;  for  one  third  of  the 
three  hundred  and  seventy-five  who  followed  the  colors 
of  the  Twenty-seventh  into  battle,  lay  dead  on  the  field, 
or  wounded  in  the  hospital.  That  forenoon  was  spent 
in  cleaning  our  guns,  in  anticipation  of  further  fighting. 
The  Connecticut  Brigade,  under  General  Haiiand,  was 
drawn  up  in  line  of  battle  on  the  main  street,  under 
orders  to  be  ready  at  any  moment  to  charge  up  the 
heights.  As  will  subsequently  appear,  they  were  spared 
this  perilous  duty.  Occasionally  a  resident  of  the  town 
came  timidly  forth  from  his  hiding-place,  or  a  family, 
loaded  down  with  bundles  of  household  effects,  slowly 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  31 

wended  their  Avay  across  the  pontoon  bridge,  to  escape 
the  terrors  surrounding  them.  A  disagreeable  uncer 
tainty  hung  over  every  moment  of  the  day,  and  when 
we  awoke  on  the  morning  of  the  fifteenth,  nothing  had 
transpired  to  diminish  our  suspense.  It  was  plain  that 
something  must  be  done,  and  that  very  soon.  Delay 
only  added  to  the  difficulties  of  the  situation.  The  army 
must  fight,  or  evacuate  the  city.  Every  few  minutes 
during  the  day  we  were  ordered  to  fall  in.  The  ex 
pectation  was  universal  that  we  were  again  to  be  led  to 
the  attack.  Hour  after  hour  processions  of  ambulances 
moved  across  the  pontoon  bridge,  and  up  the  opposite 
bank,  so  that  by  evening  the  town  was  nearly  empty 
of  the  wounded.  General  Burnside  rode  by  and  re 
ceived  a  hearty  welcome.  Evidently  a  movement  of 
some  kind  was  soon  to  be  made.  A  short  time  after 
dark  the  division  was  ordered  under  arms,  and  all,  ex 
cept  the  Twenty-seventh  Connecticut,  marched  down 
Water  street  toward  the  railway  bridge.  Our  little 
band  stood  waiting  thus  during  the  evening,  in  mo 
mentary  expectation  of  being  led  out  to  support  the 
pickets.  At  length  orders  were  received  to  advance  a 
few  hundred  yards  below  the  railroad.  As  we  arrived, 
the  rest  of  the  brigade  silently  arose  from  the  ground 
where  they  had  been  sleeping,  and  like  spectres  vanished 
in  the  darkness.  Here  we  remained  until  near  midnight, 
obtaining  what  sleep  was  possible,  then  noiselessly  fell 
in,  and  without  a  word  spoken  above  a  whisper,  retired 
rapidly  down  the  street  to  the  pontoon  bridge.  The 
streets  were  as  silent  as  death.  A  few  soldiers  were 
preparing  to  loosen  the  moorings  which  held  the  pon 
toons  to  the  banks.  After  a  brief  halt,  the  Twenty- 
seventh,  carrying  a  few  boxes  of  ammunition,  re-crossed 


32  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

the  river  by  the  same  bridge  on  which  they  had  entered 
the  city  four  days  before.  On  the  road  to  Falmouth  we 
met  General.  Hancock,  who  asked,  "  What  regiment  is 
this?"  and  being  informed,  the  Twenty-seventh  Con 
necticut,  expressed  his  great  satisfaction  with  the  con 
duct  of  the  regiment  in  the  events  of  the  last  few  days. 
After  losing  our  way  in  the  darkness,  and  experiencing 
a  heavy  rain-storm,  we  arrived  at  our  old  camp  ground 
on  the  morning  of  the  sixteenth. 

All  unconscious  of  the  night's  events,  the  rebels  threw 
a  few  shells  into  the  town,  and  meeting  no  response,  crept 
cautiously  down  from  their  fortifications,  expecting  to 
find  our  forces  concealed  under  the  banks  of  the  river. 
But  no  pickets  challenged  their  advance:  the  Union 
army  had  slipped  from  their  grasp,  the  pontoons  were 
up,  and  thus  was  accomplished  one  of  the  most  skilful 
movements  recorded  in  military  history. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  33 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CAMP     NEAR      FALMOUTII. 

THE  failure  at  Fredericksburg,  considered  in  itself, 
and  especially  in  connection  with  its  causes,  was  well 
calculated  to  produce  much  discouragement  throughout 
the  entire  army.  On  the  eleventh  of  December  the 
troops  streamed  forth  from  their  camps,  confident  in 
their  ability  to  drive  the  foe  from  Marye's  Heights,  and 
hurl  him  back  to  Richmond.  On  the  sixteenth  they  re 
turned,  baffled  and.  dispirited,  having  lost  twelve  thou 
sand  men  in  fruitless  efforts  to  overcome  the  natural  and 
artificial  advantages  of  the  rebel  position.  The  fearful 
scenes  of  a  battle  may  well  impress  the  veteran  of  many 
conflicts;  but  when,  for  the  first  time,  a  regiment  meets 
the  enemy  with  every  advantage  in  favor  of  the  latter, 
and  when  the  list  of  killed  and  wounded  swells  to  un 
usual  proportions,  and  nothing  is  accomplished  by  this 
expense  of  life  and  energy,  it  is  no  sign  of  weakness  that 
despondency  and  gloom  for  a  time  prevail.  Such  a  feel 
ing,  resulting  from  failure  in  the  campaign,  and  from  the 
loss  of  a  large  number  of  our  most  esteemed  officers  and 
men,  pervaded  the  Twenty-seventh  in  common  with  the 
rest  of  the  army.  The  loss  of  such  men  as  Captains 
Schweizer  and  Taylor,  Sergeants  Barrett  and  Fowler, 

2 


34  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

Corporals  Miramac  and  Ailing,  and  many  others,  men  of 
high  character,  who  went  to  the  field  purely  from  a 
sense  of  duty — such  men  in  their  death  could  not  fail  to 
leave  behind,  among  their  fellow  soldiers,  a  universal 
sorrow,  reaching  to  the  very  depths  of  the  heart.  The 
memory  of  those  who  fell  on  the  thirteenth  of  December, 
and  many  of  whom  lie  in  unknown  graves  back  of  Fred- 
ericksburg,  will  never  lose  its  freshness,  but  rather  grow 
in  strength  as  the  history  of  future  years  adds  significance 
to  the  conflicts  of  the  present. 

Fortunately  for  the  success  of  Burnside's  plan  of 
evacuation,  his  operations  were  concealed  in  the  dark 
ness  of  a  severe  storm,  which  had  not  terminated  when 
we  arrived  in  our  former  camp  on  the  morning  of  the 
sixteenth.  In  the  afternoon  the  two  hundred  and  fifty 
men  of  the  Twenty-seventh  who  had  been  picketing 
along  the  Rappahannock  for  the  previous  six  days,  re 
joined  us,  many  of  them  much  exhausted  by  their  un 
usually  prolonged  duties.  Expecting  to  be  absent  from 
the  regiment  only  a  day,  the  ordinary  limit  of  picket 
duty  at  one  time,  the  party  took  with  them  only  one 
day's  rations,  and  in  the  confusion  attending  the  move 
ment  of  troops  and  the  battle,  rations  for  the  additional 
time  could  be  procured  but  irregularly  and  in  insufficient 
quantities. 

According  to  orders,  the  camp  was  now  moved  to  a 
strip  of  pine  woods  skirting  the  west  side  of  the  division 
parade-ground.  But  this  was  not  to  be  our  permanent 
location ;  and  after  manoeuvring  for  several  days  from 
one  place  to  another,  we  at  length  encamped  in  the  edge 
of  a  forest,  only  a  few  rods  from  where  we  first  pitched 
our  tents,  on  the  line  of  the  Rappahannock.  An  elevated 
plain  stretched  away  between  us  and  the  river,  and  above 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  85 

a  slight  depression  the  clustered  spires  of  Fredericks- 
burg  rose  to  view,  from  whose  belfreys,  on  a  Sabbath 
morning,  we  could  sometimes  hear  the  summons  to  the 
house  of  God.  A  walk  of  a  few  rods  brought  us  in  full 
view  of  the  city,  sitting  in  calm  quiet  among  the  hills, 
while  long  red  lines  told  where  the  rebel  earthworks 
lay,  and  little  specks  of  white  in  the  background  dis 
closed  the  enemy's  camps.  Just  under  the  edge  of  the 
bluff  to  our  right,  and  concealed  from  view,  was  the 
village  of  Falmouth,  a  mongrel  collection  of  houses  ar 
ranged  along  dirty,  unpaved  streets. 

Although  intimations  were  thrown  out  that  the  army 
would  now  go  into  winter  quarters,  yet  it  was  nearly  two 
weeks  before  our  men  could  dispossess  themselves  of  the 
idea  that  some  fine  morning  the  old  stereotyped  order, 
"  Strike  tents  and  pack  knapsacks !"  would  scatter  to 
the  winds  their  plans  of  personal  comfort. 

As  soon  as  it  was  evident  that  no  further  movements 
would  be  made,  the  men  vigorously  applied  themselves 
to  the  work  of  building  huts,  devoting  the  mornings  to 
this  labor,  while  brigade  drill  occupied  the  afternoon. 
In  the  hundred  and  thirty  log  houses  of  our  little  regi 
mental  village  was  embraced  an  amount  of  comfort 
wholly  inconceivable  by  those  who  know  nothing  of  the 
numerous  contrivances  a  soldier's  ingenuity  can  suggest 
to  supply  the  place  of  ordinary  conveniences.  General 
ly,  four  congenial  minds  would  unite  their  mechanical 
resources.  A  pine  forest  within  reasonable  distance,  an 
axe  and  a  shovel,  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  mule  teams,  and  a 
moderate  degree  of  ingenuity,  constitute  the  only  capi 
tal  of  these  camp  carpenters.  Having  secured  a  favora 
ble  site,  ten  by  seven,  these  comrades  in  bunk  sally 
forth  to  the  neighboring  grove,  and  before  their  sturdy 


36  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

blows  the  old  pines  come  crashing  down,  are  split  into 
slabs  of  the  required  length,  and  in  due  time  reach  their 
destination  in  camp.  After  smoothing  the  ground,  and 
carefully  removing  stumps,  the  logs  are  hewn  out  and 
placed  one  above  another,  with  the  ends  dove-tailed  to 
gether,  or  set  upright  side  by  side  in  trenches,  and  soon 
the  huts  assume  their  full  proportions — seven  feet  by 
ten.  Every  man  now  becomes  a  mason.  The  surround 
ing  region  is  ransacked  for  stone  and  brick,  with  which 
to  construct  a  fire-place  at  the  front  end.  While  this 
important  work  is  going  on,  another  is  vigorously  plying 
his  wooden  trowel,  in  plastering  up  the  fissures  with 
clay,  on  the  principle  that  nothing  is  without  its  use, 
even  Virginia  mud.  The  roof  is  made  of  thin  shelter- 
tents,  buttoned  together.  As  regards  internal  arrange 
ments,  at  the  further  end  are  two  bunks,  one  above  the 
other ;  and  as  the  upholsterer  has  not  performed  his 
part,  and  very  likely  never  will,  the  occupants  must  con 
tent  themselves  with  the  soft  side  of  pine  slabs.  On  one 
side  of  the  hut  is  a  rack  for  the  reception  of  guns  and 
equipments,  while  at  the  other  a  cracker-box  cover  on 
stilts  does  duty  as  a  table.  In  respect  to  seats,  the  in 
genuity  of  different  individuals  showed  itself  in  rudely 
constructed  benches,  or  square  boards,  elevated  on  three- 
pronged  crotchets,  obtained  in  the  woods,  or  was  satis 
fied  with  the  trunk  of  a  tree  cut  into  suitable  lengths. 
Over  the  fire-place  a  mantle  was  generally  located,  con 
taining  a  confused  collection  of  tin  plates  and  cups, 
knives  and  forks,  and  an  endless  variety  of  rubbish.  In 
winter  quarters  it  is  very  desirable  to  have  a  liberal  sup 
ply  of  culinary  furniture.  The  man  whose  fire-place  is 
adorned  with  an  iron  frying-pan,  is  an  object  of  envy  to 
all  his  comrades,  and  is  universally  agreed  to  have  reach- 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  37 

ed  the  acme  of  comfort.  However,  the  halves  of  old 
canteens,  fitted  with  handles,  answer  very  well  in  its 
place.  In  many  of  the  huts,  telegraph  wire  might  be 
found  doing  service  in  the  shape  of  a  gridiron,  upon 
which  an  occasional  steak  is  broiled.  Very  likely,  in  its 
appropriate  place  is  a  coffee-pot,  perhaps  of  the  planta 
tion  style,  two  feet  high,  and  large  in  proportion,  Avhich 
some  argus-eyed  soldier  has  observed  and  quietly  con 
fiscated. 

Our  huts  were  now  nearly  completed,  and  with  no  lit 
tle  satisfaction  we  surveyed  their  rough  architecture, 
pork-barrel  chimneys,  and  cracker-box  doors,  feeling  that 
though  the  winds  might  blow,  and  the  rainy  season  pour 
down  its  floods,  we  were  prepared  to  endure  it  patiently. 
When  the  army  has  just  completed  its  preparations  for 
a  comfortable  time,  it  is  safe  to  prophesy  marching  or 
ders  within  three  days  thereafter.  So  it  proved  in  the 
present  instance.  At  dress  parade,  on  the  sixteenth  of 
January,  an  order  was  read  for  the  regiment  to  be  ready 
to  march  on  the  next  day  with  three  days'  rations.  De 
tails  were  dispatched  at  midnight  to  the  Brigade  Commis 
sary's,  after  rations,  and  in  good  season  on  the  seventeenth 
we  were  ready  to  start ;  but  no  final  orders  came,  and 
it  was  bruited  about  that  General  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  while 
roving  around  Dumfries  and  Alexandria  with  his  rebel 
cavalry,  in  the  absence  of  General  Burnside  in  Washing 
ton,  had  telegraphed  an  order,  as  if  from  him,  for  the 
army  to  be  ready  to  move.  This  is  of  a  piece  with  a 
joke  Stuart  perpetrated  on  another  occasion,  when  in  the 
name  of  a  Union  General  he  telegraphed  to  Washington 
for  certain  stores,  and  is  reported  to  have  received  them 
in  good  order. 

On  the  eighteenth,  Generals  Burnside  and  Simmer  re- 


38  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

viewed  our  Army  Corps.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  twen 
tieth,  an  order  was  read,  announcing  that  the  army  was 
"  about  to  meet  the  enemy  once  more.  The  auspicious 
moment  had  arrived  to  strike  a  great  and  mortal  blow 
at  the  rebellion,  and  to  gain  that  decisive  victory  due  to 
the  country."  The  plan  was  for  Hooker  and  Franklin 
to  cross  at  Banks's  Ford,  six  miles  above  Falmouth,  and 
capture  Taylor's  Hill,  the  key  of  the  position,  from 
which  they  could  advance  in  the  rear  of  Fredericks- 
burg,  and  turn  the  enemy's  flank.  This  being  done, 
Sumner  with  his  grand  division,  to  which  the  Twenty- 
seventh  belonged,  was  to  cross  directly  in  front  of  the 
city  at  the  old  place,  and  take  the  batteries  which  had 
baffled  our  efforts  in  the  battle  of  December  thirteenth. 
The  plan  was  substantially  the  same  as  the  previous  one, 
except  that  the  flank  movement  was  to  be  made  upon 
the  rebel  left  wing  instead  of  his  right.  The  failure  of 
December  resulted  from  the  inefficiency  of  Franklin's 
flank  demonstration,  which  allowed  the  enemy  to  mass 
his  forces  in  front  of  Sumner.  But  now  it  was  proposed 
to  use  two  corps  in  the  preliminary  movement,  and,  pro 
vided  they  were  successful  in  taking  Taylor's  Hill,  Sum- 
ner's  success  would  be  assured,  notwithstanding  the  reb 
els  had  been  engaged  for  a  month  previous  in  strengthen 
ing  and  extending  their  works.  Hooker  and  Franklin 
were  in  motion  on  the  twentieth,  while  impetuous  Sum 
ner  waited  in  his  camps  to  hear  the  signal  which  should 
summon  his  veteran  legions  to  the  conflict.  For  several 
days,  artillery  and  pontoons  had  been  passing  camp  en 
route  for  Banks's  Ford.  If  the  weather  continues  favor 
able,  the  morrow  will  bring  to  our  ears  the  boom  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  cannon. 
But  one  of  those  strange  events  beyond  man's  power 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  39 

to  avert  disconcerts  the  whole  plan.  Instead  of  the 
roar  of  artillery,  the  unwelcome  sound  of  rain  salutes 
our  ears  the  next  morning,  and  continues  for  several 
days.  Impassable  roads,  guns  and  pontoons  fast  in  the 
mud,  men  toiling  slowly  along,  or  pulling  at  the  boats, 
add  a  new  page  to  the  chapter  of  misfortune  which  had 
followed  the  noble  Army  of  the  Potomac.  The  rebels 
briefly  summed  up  this  last  advance  in  these  laconic 
words,  "  Burnside  stuck  in  the  mud !"  which  they  im 
pudently  displayed  from  their  picket-line,  derisively  in 
quiring  when  the  "  auspicious  moment "  would  arrive. 
The  rainy  season  had  now  set  in  in  good  earnest,  and  the 
wearied  troops  returned  to  their  camps  to  await  the  ad 
vent  of  spring. 

The  progress  of  events  had  already  foreshadowed  a 
change  of  commanders,  and  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  Jan 
uary  general  orders  were  read  announcing  that  General 
Burnside  had  been  relieved,  and  the  accession  of  Joe 
Hooker.  The  brief  two  months  of  Burnside's  command 
had  secured  for  him  the  sincere  respect  of  the  whole 
army.  His  honesty  of  purpose  could  not  be  impeached, 
and  none  felt  more  keenly  than  himself  the  ill  success 
which  had  attended  him.  History,  in  summing  up  his 
campaign,  will  assign  no  small  significance  to  the  fact 
that  Burnside  did  not  receive  the  hearty  cooperation  of 
his  subordinate  commanders.  He  possessed  an  excessive 
self-distrust,  and  it  was  creditable  to  his  candor  to  con 
fess  it;  yet  it  is  a  question  whether  this  distrust  did 
not  react  unfavorably  upon  the  officers  and  men  of  his 
command.  Condemn  it  as  we  may,  the  boastful  self-con 
fidence  of  Hooker  had  no  little  influence  in  reinspiring 
the  army  with  that  self-reliance  which  forms  an  impor 
tant  item  in  the  calculations  of  success. 


40  THE  TWENTY- SEVENTH 

The  advent  of  General  Hooker  was  signalized  by  the 
abolition  of  the  grand  divisions,  and  a  return  to  the  sim 
pler  organization  of  Corps  cFArmee.  And  what  was  of 
more  consequence  to  the  soldiers,  an  order  was  published 
directing  the  issue  of  four  rations  of  fresh  bread  and 
fresh  beef,  and  two  rations  of  potatoes  per  week,  with 
an  occasional  supply  of  other  vegetables.  This  measure 
went  right  to  the  hearts  of  the  army,  for  it  must  be  con 
fessed,  and  it  is  nothing  to  their  disgrace,  that  the  hearts 
of  soldiers  are  very  near,  if  not  actually  in,  their  stom 
achs.  For  an  army  is  a  great  physical  machine,  expend 
ing  a  vast  amount  of  animal  power,  and  requiring  care 
ful  attention  to  its  animal  wants  to  secure  the  highest 
moral  efficiency. 

From  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg  to  Hooker's  move 
in  the  spring  of  1863,  the  Twenty-seventh  was  engaged 
in  picket  duty  along  the  Rappahannock,  whose  banks 
are  as  familiar  to  the  men  almost  as  the  walks  of  child 
hood.  Every  other  day,  at  seven  in  the  morning,  our 
quota  of  the  division  picket,  equipped  with  blankets  and 
one  day's  rations,  formed  in  front  of  the  Colonel's  tent, 
and,  after  inspection,  marched  a  mile  to  General  Han 
cock's  headquarters  to  undergo  another  inspection,  after 
which  a  march  of  two  or  three  miles  brought  them  to 
the  line  of  the  river.  The  fact  that  three  fourths  of  the 
time  it  was  either  rainy,  or  snowing,  or  cold  and  blus 
tering,  will  give  some  idea  of  the  arduous  character  of 
picket  duty.  By  mutual  agreement,  the  custom  of 
picket  firing,  so  annoying  and  useless,  was  discontinued, 
and  friendly  intercourse  was  no  uncommon  event ;  which 
latter  practice,  though  harmless  in  itself,  was  yet  so  liable 
to  make  trouble  that  it  was  prohibited  by  special  order. 
Frequently  the  rebels  launched  out  on  the  river  their 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  41 

diminutive  craft,  laden  with  tobacco  and  the  latest  Rich 
mond  papers,  and  bearing  a  note  to  "  Gentlemen  of  the 
United  States,"  requesting  an  interchange  of  commodities. 

February  twenty-second,  we  experienced  the  severest 
•snow-storm  of  the  season.  At  noon,  through  the  thick 
mist  of  snow-flakes,  came  the  deep  boom  of  cannon,  swell 
ing  into  a  loud  chorus,  from  the  adjacent  batteries,  an 
swered  by  the  low,  muffled  murmur  of  the  distant  dis 
charge.  In  every  direction  salutes  were  being  fired  in 
honor  of  Washington's  birthday.  The  time  and  place 
gave  additional  interest  to  this  demonstration  of  respect 
for  the  Father  of  his  Country,  for  this  region  is  inti 
mately  connected  with  his  history.  Here  he  lived,  and 
here  are  his  descendants  to  this  day,  while  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Rappabannock  a  simple  tomb  marks  his 
mother's  resting-place. 

March  fifth,  General  Hooker  reviewed  the  Second 
Army  Corps,  on  a  large  plain,  near  Hancock's  headquar 
ters.  The  corps  was  drawn  up  in  nine  lines  by  brigade, 
in  all  nearly  fifteen  thousand  men.  General  Hooker  and 
General  Couch,  the  then  corps  commander,  with  their  bril 
liant  and  numerous  staffs,  rode  rapidly  up  and  down  the 
several  lines,  while  the  men  presented  arms.  Then  tak 
ing  position  in  front,  the  brigades  marched  by  in  column 
by  company.  Nothing  was  more  impressive  than  the 
sight  of  the  many  regiments  reduced  to  a  mere  fragment 
of  their  former  strength — a  silently  eloquent  commentary 
upon  the  inscriptions  on  their  banners. 

The  rapid  advance  of  spring,  and  Hooker's  known 
determination  to  move  on  the  enemy  at  the  earliest  pos 
sible  moment,  led  to  much  speculation  as  to  the  plan  of 
the  new  campaign.  Before  the  close  of  March,  intima 
tions  were  thrown  out  that  the  army  must  expect  soon  to 
2* 


42  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

take  the  field.  Daily  balloon  ascensions  were  made  at 
several  points  on  the  river,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  po 
sition  of  the  rebels.  As  an  illustration  of  "  Fighting 
Joe's"  cool  assurance,  it  was  currently  reported  that  one 
day  he  sent  his  balloon  directly  over  the  city  of  Freder-* 
icksburg,  having  previously  notified  the  commandant 
that  any  molestation  would  meet  with  condign  punish 
ment  from  his  batteries.  The  comparative  nearness  of 
our  camp  to  the  river  aiforded  good  opportunities  for 
observing  any  change  on  the  rebel  side,  and  the  proba 
bility  that  we  should  have  to  cross  in  front  of  the  city  in 
any  future  movement,  whetted  our  curiosity.  The  reb 
els  had  been  actively  engaged  all  winter  in  strengthen 
ing  their  position,  and  now  dark  lines  of  rifle-pits  and 
earthworks  frowned  from  the  bluffs  for  miles  up  and 
down  the  banks,  commanding  every  available  crossing. 
As  may  well  be  imagined,  the  prospect  was  by  no  means 
inviting. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLtJNTEEES.  43 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHANCELLOKSVILLE. 

APRIL  eighth,  the  Twenty-seventh  participated  in  the 
grand  review  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  by  Presi 
dent  Lincoln,  preparatory  to  opening  the  spring  campaign. 
Fifty  or  sixty  thousand  men  were  in  line,  and  probably 
the  army  was  never  in  better  condition  than  at  that 
time. 

One  week  later,  orders  were  received  to  supply  the 
men  with  eight  days'  rations,  five  to  be  carried  in 
their  knapsacks,  and  three  in  their  haversacks.  Over 
coats,  dress  coats,  and  everything  which  could  pos 
sibly  be  dispensed  with,  were  to  be  turned  in  to  the 
Quartermaster.  Each  day  company  inspections  were 
held,  to  see  that  the  men  were  prepared  as  the  orders 
directed.  About  this  time  the  regiment  was  transferred 
to  the  Fourth  Brigade,  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
J.  R.  Brooke,  of  the  Fifty-third  Pennsylvania,  A  storm 
of  two  days'  duration  postponed  the  forward  move 
ment  a  short  time,  but  by  the  twenty-seventh  of  the 
month  the  weather  became  tolerably  settled,  and  now 
began  a  campaign  which  it  was  fondly  hoped  would  re 
sult  in  the  capture  of  Richmond.  In  the  morning  we 
sent  out  an  additional  picket  of  over  three  hundred  men, 


44  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

leaving  hardly  a  corporal's  guard  in  camp.  All  day 
artillery  and  cavalry,  pack-mules  and  wagon-trains,  were 
passing  camp,  on  their  way  to  the  right.  Late  in  the 
evening,  orders  came  to  strike  tents,  pack  up  as  quietly 
as  possible,  and  report  on  the  division  parade  at  day 
break.  Our  pickets  returned  at  two  o'clock  the  next 
morning.  The  camp  was  now  full  of  bustling  prepa 
ration.  The  huts  all  illuminated  ;  the  eager  hum  of 
voices ;  men  hurrying  to  and  fro ;  the  decided  tones  of 
command,  combined  to  form  a  scene  of  excitement  no 
where  found  but  in  the  army.  At  daybreak  the  regi 
ment  fell  in,  and  bade  farewell  to  the  dismantled  camp, 
to  enter  upon  an  experience  none  of  us  had  ever  contem 
plated  as  likely  to  fall  to  our  lot. 

Camp  near  Falmouth  will  linger  vividly  in  memory, 
when  other  more  startling  scenes  of  army  life  have  faded 
into  oblivion.  Our  four  months'  residence  witnessed  a 
complete  .change  in  the  face  of  the  country.  A  few 
stumps,  or  a  solitary  tree,  were  all  that  was  left  of  the 
forests  which,  four  months  before,  waved  over  a  hundred 
square  miles  of  territory.  Here  and  there  a  house, 
tenantless,  fenceless,  and  dingy,  or  a  blackened  ruin, 
with  only  a  bare  chimney  standing,  loomed  above  the 
naked  landscape,  a  picture  of  complete  desolation. 

The  division  having  assembled  near  General  Hancock's 
headquarters,  began  the  march  for  United  States  Ford, 
at  seven  in  the  morning.  We  passed  many  deserted 
encampments,  whose  late  occupants,  like  ourselves,  were 
on  the  move.  Instead  of  following  the  direct  course. of 
the  river  up  to  the  Ford,  which  was  only  ten  miles 
above  Falmouth,  we  pursued  a  very  circuitous  route, 
and,  after  an  easy  march,  halted  in  a  strip  of  woods, 
where  we  encamped  for  the  night.  The  next  day,  at 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  45 

evening,  we  had  just  pitched  our  tents  and  built  fires, 
and  were  in  the  act  of  making  coffee,  and  frying  a  bit 
of  pork  or  beef,  when  the  order  came  for  the  Twenty- 
seventh  to  fall  in  with  all  possible  dispatch.  Suppers 
were  thrust  into  haversacks,  without  much  regard  to 
order,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  regiment  marched  off 
about  a  mile,  to  picket  in  the  woods.  This  duty  occu 
pied  us  until  the  next  afternoon,  when  we  were  relieved, 
and  hastened  on  to  overtake  the  rest  of  the  brigade, 
which  had  already  broken  camp.  During  the  night 
previous  a  light  fall  of  rain  took  place,  just  enough, 
however,  to  put  the  roads  in  bad  condition.  All  along 
the  route,  pioneers  were  thrown  out  in  advance,  to  cor 
duroy  the  worst  places  for  the  passage  of  the  trains. 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  a  continuous  line  of  army 
wagons  filled  the  road,  urging  their  way  forward  with 
the  greatest  difficulty.  The  woods  on  either  hand  rang 
with  the  sharp  crack  of  the  teamsters'  whips,  and  simul 
taneously  a  chorus  of  wild  shouts  burst  from  the  driver 
and  the  men  pushing  at  the  wheels,  while  high  above 
the  din  rose  shrill  cries,  resembling  the  notes  of  the 
screech-owl.  Then,  with  a  quick,  jerking  jump,  the 
nimble  mules  landed  the  team  in  the  next  rut,  to  await 
the  reception  of  the  same  magical  sounds. 

Advancing  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the  Ford,  the 
corps  halted  to  await  the  completion  of  the  preparations 
for  crossing.  The  sun  now  burst  forth  from  the  canopy 
of  clouds  as  if  in  glad  sympathy  with  the  exhilaration 
which  pervaded  all  hearts  in  consequence  of  the  en 
couraging  news  from  the  front.  A  dispatch  from  Gen 
eral  Hooker  announced  that  the  success  of  the  Fifth, 
Eleventh,  and  Twelfth  Corps  Avas  all  that  could  b^ 
desired,  and  that  the  rebels  were  retiring.  These  corps 


46  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

broke  camp  early  on  Monday  morning,  April  twenty- 
seventh,  and  took  the  route  to  Kelly's  Ford,  twenty- 
five  miles  above  Fredericksburg.  The  pontoons  were 
laid  and  a  crossing  effected  on  the  following  day,  with 
very  little  opposition,  and  the  troops  pushed  forward 
rapidly  to  Germania  Ford,  on  the  Rapidan,  for  the 
purpose  of  concentrating  at  Chancellorsville.  General 
Stoneman,  with  his  cavalry,  crossed  on  Wednesday,  to 
enter  upon  the  grand  raid  which  the  Richmond  Ex 
aminer  characterized  as  the  "  most  audacious  enterprise 
of  the  war."  The  diversion  from  Germania  caused  the 
rebels  to  evacuate  their  works  in  front  of  the  United 
States  Ford,  so  that  no  molestation  was  offered  when  the 
pontoons  were  laid  for  the  passage  of  the  Second  Corps. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  of  April  thirtieth,  we  moved 
rapidly  down  the  abrupt,  woody  bank,  and  once  more, 
set  foot  on  the  south  side  of  the  Rappahannock.  A 
line  of  well-constructed  rifle-pits,  Avith  more  elaborate 
works  for  cannon,  at  intervals  of  several  hundred  yards, 
commanded  the  crossing  In  their  hasty  retreat  the 
rebels  left  behind  two  pieces  of  artillery  spiked.  Only 
a  few  miles  now  separated  us  from  the  scene  of  opera 
tions,  and  after  marching  through  woods,  and  over 
muddy  roads,  rendered  infinitely  worse  by  the  constant 
passage  of  troops,  we  bivouacked  for  the  night  a  short 
distance  from  the  Chancellor  House,  a  large  brick  man 
sion,  so  called  from  its  occupant,  V.  Chancellor.  This  resi 
dence  was  situated  about  five  miles  from  United  States 
Ford,  and  about  ten  miles  southwest  of  Fredericksburg, 
at  the  junction  of  the  plank  road  to  Gordon sville  and 
the  Orange  County  turnpike.  A  shapeless  mass  of  ruins 
Is  all  that  now  remains  of  what  gave  name  to  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  battles  of  the  war. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  47 

Save  an  occasional  discharge  of  cannon,  the  forenoon 
of  May  first  was  spent  in  comparative  quiet,  neither 
party  seeming  disposed  to  inaugurate  the  conflict. 
Movements,  however,  were  in  progress  with  a  view  to 
ascertain  the  enemy's  position.  In  the  afternoon  the 
Twenty-seventh  participated  in  a  reconnoissance  for  this 
purpose,  which  came  very  near  proving  an  affair  of  no 
little  importance.  Leaving  our  bivouack  in  the  woods, 
we  advanced  down  the  road  by  the  Chancellor  House, 
and  ascending  a  gentle  elevation,  turned  aside  into  an 
open  lot  on  the  left,  near  a  small  dwelling,  afterward 
occupied  by  General  Lee  as  his  headquarters.  Here  a 
section  of  artillery  was  exchanging  compliments  in  a 
lively  manner  with  a  rebel  battery,  a  short  distance  up 
the  road.  Several  companies  were  immediately  de 
ployed  as  skirmishers,  with  the  remainder  as  a  support, 
and  advanced  through  the  woods  to  feel  the  enemy's 
position,  and  develop  his  strength.  Suddenly  the  artil 
lery  limbered  up,  the  skirmishers  were  called  in,  and  the 
reconnoitering  force  retired  to  the  rear  at  double-quick. 
This  movement  was  rendered  necessary  by  an  advance  of 
the  enemy,  seriously  threatening  our  right  flank ;  but  they 
were  foiled  in  the  attempt,  and  fell  back  before  a  stub 
born  fire  of  musketry  and  artillery.  For  a  few  moments 
we  remained  in  line  of  battle  in  the  open  ground  near 
the  Chancellor  House,  then,  moving  down  the  road  a 
short  distance,  deployed  through  the  thick  and  tangled 
woods  on  the  left.  Appearances  indicated  that  the  rebels 
were  about  to  charge  down  from  the  ridge  from  which 
we  had  just  retired,  but  they  contented  themselves  with 
shelling  us  furiously  with  their  batteries.  Long  before 
the  cannonade  ceased,  the  mellow  twilight  of  a  May 
evening  had  passed  into  the  darkness  of  night,  adding 


48  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

to  the  fearful  sublimity  of  the  scene,  as  the  rebel  guns 
woke  the  sleeping  forest  echoes,  and  shells  careered 
wildly  through  the  air,  and  crashed  among  the  trees. 
Quietly  resting  on  the  ground,  Ave  wait  for  the  iron 
storm  to  pass.  No  sooner  has  the  last  shell  swept  over 
our  heads  and  burst  into  numberless  fragments,  than  we 
enter  upon  the  night's  work,  of  intrenching  our  position 
against  the  anticipated  attack  of  the  morrow.  The  rebels 
were  apparently  engaged  in  similar  work  just  across  the 
ravine.  It  was  a  busy  arid  exciting  scene  along  the 
lines  of  the  army  that  night.  The  rapid  strokes  of  axe 
men,  followed  by  the  dull  sound  of  falling  trees,  rang 
through  the  woods  in  every  direction.  Details  of  men 
were  at  hand  to  put  the  logs  in  position,  while  others 
dug  a  trench  in  the  rear,  and  heaped  the  soil  upon  them. 
For  some  distance  in  front  of  the  breastworks,  trees 
were  cut  down  for  the  purpose  of  obstructing  the  enemy's 
advance.  After  the  completion  of  our  intrenchments, 
we  rested  under  arms,  and  at  daybreak,  May  second,  as 
silently  as  possible,  marched  out  into  the  road,  and 
past  the  Chancellor  House,  and  took  a  new  position  in 
Hooker's  line  of  battle.  The  rebels  soon  entered  the 
place  we  had  just  left,  which,  however,  was  of  very 
little  value  to  them,  and  could  easily  be  reoccupied 
when  circumstances  required.  We  spent  the  forenoon 
in  building  breastworks,  while  on  the  other  parts  of  the 
line  there  was  much  skirmishing,  and  several  sharp 
fights.  At  intervals  during  the  day  the  enemy  opened 
upon  us  with  shot  and  shell,  discovering  our  position  by 
the  smoke  curling  above  the  trees  from  the  camp  fires. 
At  noon,  when  rations  were  being  dealt  out  to  the  com 
panies,  the  rebel  gunners,  doubtless  tantalized  by  the 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  49 

display,  seemed  determined  to  involve  commissaries  and 
rations  in  one  common  ruin. 

Several  days  had  now  passed  in  the  usual  prelimi 
naries  to  a  battle.  Hooker  had  succeeded  in  drawing 
the  main  force  of  the  rebels  from  their  works  in  the  rear 
of  Fredericksburg,  and  was  himself  well  intrenched  in 
the  dense  woods  skirting  the  plank  road,  and  most  ap 
propriately  called  the  Wilderness.  The  line  of  battle  of 
the  Union  forces  formed  a  broad  wedge,  whose  base 
rested  on  the  Rappahannock,  the  apex  terminating  at 
the  extreme  front  beyond  the  Chancellor  House.  The 
Eleventh  Corps  held  the  extreme  right,  and  next  in 
order  were  the  Third,  Twelfth,  and  Second,  while  the 
Fifth  occupied  the  left. 

Lee  is  said  to  have  issued  orders  to  his  troops  to  break 
this  line,  at  all  hazards.  A  brief  calm  followed  the  des 
ultory  movements  of  the  day.  The  men  stood  in  their 
places  behind  the  breastworks,  gazing  into  the  woods  in 
front,  eagerly  listening  to  hear  the  first  sound  which 
should  tell  where  the  rebel  blow  would  strike.  At  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  enemy  advanced  in  heavy 
^orce  down  the  plank  road,  and  began  the  attack  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  intrenchments  we  had  thrown  up 
the  night  before.  The  rapid  fire  of  musketry  on  our 
right  indicated  a  serious  attempt  to  pierce  the  centre  of 
the  Union  line.  Under  cover  of  this  movement,  the  in 
domitable  Jackson  advanced  his  hordes  through  the 
woods,  and  hurled  their  solid  array  on  Hooker's  right 
wing,  directly  in  rear  of  our  present  position.  Let  the 
Eleventh  Corps  stand  firm,  and  victory  will  rest  on  our 
banners  ere  the  close  of  day.  The  current  history  of  the 
hour  tells  us  how  the  crisis  was  met.  But  more  expres 
sive  than  history  itself  was  the  wild  shout  of  triumph 


50  THE  TWESTTY-SEVENTH 

that  burst  from  one  end  of  the  rebel  line  to  the  other,  ns 
it  swept  over  the  earthworks,  and  saw  the  panic-stricken 
corps  dashing  madly  to  the  rear.  Who  can  describe  the 
almost  breathless  interest  with  which  we  listened  to  the 
fluctuations  of  the  conflict?  Now  the  avalanche  of  the 
enemy  is  stayed  a  moment  in  its  course ;  then  nearer  and 
nearer  approaches  the  sound  of  battle,  and  it  seems  as  if 
the  next  instant  the  foe  will  dash  in  upon  our  rear.  A 
portion  of  the  Second  Corps  hurries  away  to  the  scene 
of  strife,  and  General  Hancock,  every  nerve  strung  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  excitement,  rides  up  to  inform  the 
Colonel  that  probably  we  should  not  be  called  into 
action,  but  were  to  hold  our  position,  and  that  in  case  of 
necessity  we  could  fight  on  either  side  of  our  breast 
works,  plainly  pointing  to  the  possibility  that  the  enemy 
may  attack  in  the  rear.  Through  the  woods  behind  us 
we  can  see  batteries  of  artillery  rushing  into  position 
near  Hooker's  headquarters,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
forest  trembles  with  the  terrific  cannonade,  vying  with 
the  thunders  of  heaven  in  the  compass  of  its  sound.  In 
the  distance  the  deep,  prolonged  boom  of  a  hundred- 
pounder  swells  the  bass  notes  of  the  chorus.  Double- 
shotted  with  grape  and  canister,  the  field-pieces  sweep 
the  rebel  line  with  murderous  effect.  At  length  dark 
ness  put  an  end  to  this  sublime  exhibition  of  human 
power.  The  frightened  whippoorwills  ceased  their 
plaintive  cries ;  the  quiet  moon  rose  over  the  bloody 
field,  and  Nature  sank  into  a  silence  fairly  oppressive. 
We  remained  under  arms  most  of  the  night,  frequently 
changing  our  position  as  the  emergency  required. 

At  eleven  o'clock  occurred  one  of  those  episodes  of 
warfare  which,  in  startling  grandeur  and  terrible  mag 
nificence,  well-nigh  border  on  the  supernatural.  The 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  51 

forces  of  Hooker  and  Lee  were  resting  on  their  arms, 
renewing  their  energies  with  an  hour  of  broken  slum 
ber,  and  ready  to  rush  to  battle  at  the  first  flash  of 
dawn.  The  air  was  perfectly  still  and  serene,  transmit 
ting  the  rays  of  the  moon  with  unusual  brilliancy. 
Scarcely  a  sound  disturbed  the  painful  silence  of  the 
almost  interminable  woods.  All  at  once  the  artillery, 
massed  on  the  ridge  hardly  half  a  mile  behind  us,  with 
one  tremendous  crash  poured  in  its  fire  upon  the  enemy's 
position,  covering  the  charge  of  a  division  of  infantry. 
The  thunder  of  musketry  and  artillery  reverberated 
through  the  forest  with  an  efiect  inconceivably  grand. 

At  the  earliest  moment  on  Sabbath  morning,  May 
third,  the  battle  was  renewed,  but  apparently  with  less 
vigor  than  on  the  preceding  day,  and  yet,  as  brigade 
after  brigade  became  engaged,  and  the  almost  unexam 
pled  roar  of  musketry  rolled  along  the  line,  it  was  evi 
dent  that  the  enemy  were  about  to  follow  up,  with  even 
greater  desperation,  the  advantage  already  gained.  Im 
mediately  after  breakfast,  the  Twenty-seventh,  with  the 
exception  of  two  companies — D  and  F,  engaged  in  other 
duty — was  ordered  down  into  the  intrenchments  we  had 
thrown  up,  near  the  apex  of  the  wedge,  the  Friday  night 
previous.  These  works  now  formed  a  part  of  the  picket- 
line  of  the  army,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  position  and 
its  relation  to  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  a  large  force 
was  required  in  order  to  hold  it.  As  is  usual  in  such 
cases,  when  a  picket  in  force  is  ordered,  the  colors  did 
not  accompany  the  column.  As  the  regiment  advanced, 
at  double-quick,  down  the  hill  into  the  ravine,  it  was  met 
by  a  heavy  fire  of  musketry.  A  number  were  wounded, 
and  several  shot  through  the  head,  just  as  they  entered 
the  breastworks.  One  or  two  regiments  whose  ammu- 


52  THE   TWENTY- SEVENTH 

nition  was  exhausted,  were  gradually  drawn  off  in  small 
squads.  Kot  succeeding  in  their  first  attempt,  the  rebels 
made  no  further  attack  in  force  upon  our  part  of  the  line, 
but,  concealed  in  the  thick  woods,  continually  annoyed 
us  with  a  scattering  fire.  The  men  replied  as  they  had 
opportunity,  and  with  considerable  effect,  as  the  rebels 
themselves  afterward  acknowledged.  Colonel  Bostwick 
was  particularly  noticeable  for  the  almost  reckless  ex 
posure  of  himself  to  the  enemy's  fire,  while  attending  to 
his  duties  at  different  points  in  the  line.  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Merwin  reminded  him  several  times  of  the  great 
danger  he  incurred,  as  he  stood  on  a  slightly  rising 
ground  to  the  rear  of  the  rifle-pits,  a  conspicuous  object 
for  some  rebel  bullet. 

While  the  conflict  was  culminating  in  other  parts  of 
the  field,  the  enemy  in  our  immediate  front  were  not  so 
idle  as  appearances  indicated.  Looking  through  the 
woods,  we  could  indistinctly  see  a  large  body  of  infantry 
making  a  wide  circuit  to  the  right,  seemingly  with  a 
view  to  attack  some  remote  part  of  the  line.  A  similar 
movement  took  place  also  to  the  left.  "  Look  out  on  the 
right!"  "Look  out  on  the  left!"  passed  up  and  down 
the  line,  and  every  man  was  on  the  alert,  ready  to  meet 
them  should  they  attempt  to  carry  our  intrenchments. 

Suddenly,  from  unseen  batteries  behind  us,  comes  a 
deep  roar,  and  the  next  moment  shell  after  shell  shrieks 
through  the  trees  and  bursts  almost  in  the  rifle-pits.  The 
thought  flashes  upon  us  that  the  rebels  are  in  our  rear, 
but  is  dismissed  with  the  reflection  that  it  is  only  a  Union 
battery  firing  too  low,  and  will  soon  correct  its  false 
range.  Meanwhile  our  little  band  had  been  reduced  to 
less  than  four  hundred  men,  embracing  two  hundred  and 
seventy  of  the  Twenty-seventh,  with  small  portions  of 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEEKS.  53 

the  One  Hundred  and  Forty-fifth  Pennsylvania  and  Sec 
ond  Delaware ;  and  this  force  being  entirely  inadequate  to 
hold  the  extended  line,  Colonel  Bostwick  dispatched  Major 
Coburn  to  General  Hancock  for  reinforcements.  In  a 
few  moments  the  shelling  ceased,  and  far  up  the  road  in 
front  appeared  a  rebel  officer  waving  a  flag  of  truce,  and 
slowly  advancing,  waiting  for  a  recognition.  The  men 
stopped  firing  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  road, 
while  for  a  moment  the  musketry  became  more  brisk  on 
the  left  flank.  At  length  the  rebel  officer  arrived  within 
a  few  paces  of  the  works,  where  he  was  halted,  to  await 
the  presence  of  Colonel  Morris,  of  the  Sixty-sixth  ISTew- 
York,  commanding  the  whole  line.  This  officer  was  not 
to  be  found,  and  the  responsibility  of  receiving  the  com 
munication  from  the  flag  of  truce  devolved  upon  Colonel 
Bostwick,  of  the  Twenty-seventh.  The  rebel — a  tail, 
rough  specimen,  and  yet  with  the  manner  of  a  gentle 
man — announced  himself  as  Lieutenant  Bailey,  of  a 
Georgia  regiment ;  that  he  had  been  sent  to  inform  us 
that  we  were  entirely  surrounded  ;  that  there  was  no  pos 
sible  avenue  of  escape,  and  therefore  he  summoned  us  to 
surrender,  and  thus  avoid  the  loss  of  life  which  would 
inevitably  follow  any  resistance  to  the  overwhelming 
force  in  front  and  rear.  The  Colonel  replied  that  he  did 
not  "see"  it,  and  proceeded  to  investigate  the  actual 
state  of  affairs.  Meanwhile  Lieutenant-Colonel  Merwin 
went  up  through  the  woods  in  the  rear  only  to  find  it  too 
true  that  the  rebels  were  posted  in  strong  force,  to  bar 
any  escape  in  that  direction.  Masses  of  the  enemy  pour 
ing  in  on  the  right  and  left,  revealed  at  once  the  desper 
ate  position  in  which  we  were  placed,  while  the  singing 
bullets  from  the  woods  behind  as  well  as  in  front,  indi 
cated  that  the  foe  were  closing  in  upon  us.  The  first 


54  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

impulse  among  officers  and  men  was  to  attempt  to  force 
our  way  through.  But  it  was  evident  that  such  a  course 
would  result  in  the  destruction  of  more  than  half  our 
number,  while  the  remainder  would  inevitably  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy.  After  a  hurried  consultation 
among  the  officers,  a  surrender  was  agreed  upon,  and  the 
formality  had  hardly  been  completed,  when  a  heavy  line 
of  rebel  skirmishers  swept  out  of  the  woods  behind. 
Only  five  minutes  before,  the  men  stood  at  their  posts 
undisturbed  by  even  a  doubt  of  their  security ;  now,  as 
tonished  at  the  sudden  denouement,  we  found  ourselves 
about  to  enter  upon  the  terrible  uncertainties  of  rebel 
captivity.  And  this  surprise  and  mortification  was  in 
creased  by  the  conviction  that  serious  disaster  must  have 
overtaken  the  Union  army.  The  history  of  the  day  es 
tablishes  the  fact,  that  Saturday's  misfortune,  and  the 
subsequent  operations  of  Sunday  morning,  compelled  the 
formation  of  a  new  line  of  battle.  The  surging  conflict  had 
gradually  crowded  Hooker  back,  and  late  in  the  afternoon 
the  army  retired,  by  his  order,  to  a  position  some  distance 
in  rear  of  the  Chancellor  House.  As  General  Hancock 
afterward  stated,  orders  were  sent  down  to  the  Twenty- 
seventh  to  fall  back  at  the  same  time,  but  they  failed  to 
reach  us ;  and  while  the  rest  of  the  army  had  retreated 
to  the  new  line,  the  Twenty-seventh  still  remained  at  the 
extreme  front  of  the  old,  entirely  unconscious  of  this 
change  of  position.  Our  situation  in  a  ravine,  surround 
ed  by  dense  woods,  rendered  it  impossible  to  observe 
the  movements  going  on  in  other  parts  of  the  extended 
field.  The  enemy,  already  aware  of  Hooker's  withdraw 
al,  immediately  planted  a  battery  behind  us,  supported, 
as  one  of  the  rebels  afterward  said,  by  two  brigades  of 
infantry. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  55 

The  experience  of  Major  Coburn  immediately  after 
the  shelling,  while  en  route  to  deliver  the  Colonel's  re 
quest  to  General  Hancock,  more  than  confirms  this  state 
ment.  On  his  way  to  the  rear  he  was  accompanied  by 
one  of  our  sergeants,  severely  wounded  in  the  early  part 
of  the  action.  They  had  passed  hardly  half  a  mile 
through  the  woods  when  they  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
the  Major  was  conducted  into  the  road,  where  he  found 
a  large  part  of  Stonewall  Jackson's  corps,  under  com 
mand  of  Major-General  Anderson.  Already  they  had 
formed  their  skirmish  line  and  were  crowding  forward 
with  all  possible  speed,  certain  of  their  prey.  Outnum 
bered  on  every  hand,  and  with  batteries  in  front  and 
rear,  it  would  have  been  madness  to  have  attempted  to 
force  our  way  through  in  the  face  of  such  odds.  The 
gallant  Brooke,  with  characteristic  bravery,  when  he 
heard  the  firing,  volunteered  to  charge  down  with  his 
brigade  to  our  relief,  but  General  Hancock  refused  per 
mission,  for  fear  of  bringing  on  a  general  engagement 
while  the  army  was  changing  its  position. 


56  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 


CHAPTER    VI. 

ON      TO      RICHMOND. 

LET  us  now  return  to  the  little  band  of  prisoners  in 
that  woody  ravine.  As  soon  as  the  surrender  had  been 
consummated  the  men  threw  away  their  guns,  many  of 
them  with  the  cartridges,  into  a  rivulet  near  the  intrench- 
ments,  and  some  cut  up  their  equipments,  determined 
to  afford  as  little  aid  and  comfort  to  the  rebels  as  possi 
ble.  Our  newly-made  acquaintances  exhibited  a  most 
remarkable  penchant  for  cutlery  and  other  conveniences 
Yankees  are  always  supposed  to  have  in  their  possession. 
One  of  the  rebel  skirmishers  had  hardly  lowered  his  gun 
from  an  aim,  when  he  walked  up  to  one  of  our  men  and 
said :  "  Have  you  got  a  knife  to  sell  ?"  "  No ;"  and 
somewhat  abashed,  he  went  off  to  try  his  luck  in  a  more 
promising  field.  We  were  now  ordered  to  fall  in,  and  a 
part  were  marched  up  the  road  to  General  Lee's  head 
quarters,  where  the  rebels  took  away  our  knapsacks, 
rubber  blankets,  shelter-tents,  and  canteens,  and  regis 
tered  our  names.  Quite  a  crowd  of  butternuts  assem 
bled  to  view  the  "Yanks"  and  prosecute  their  schemes, 
of  trade. 

While  we  were  near  headquarters,  a  General  of  high 
rank  rode  up,  unattended  by  his  staff,  and  was  received 


CONNECTICUT    VOLUNTEERS.  57 

among  his  soldiers  with  a  style  of  cheering  or  yelling 
peculiar  to  themselves.  The  rebel  chief  seemed  lost  in 
deep  thought,  scarcely  noticing  the  squad  of  prisoners 
or  the  cheers  of  his  men.  The  signs  of  care  were  strong- 

"  £5 

ly  marked  upon  his  iron  countenance.  Clad  in  simple 
garb,  with  no  prominent  badge  of  distinction,  calm  and 
determined  in  demeanor,  stood  before  us  the  commander 
of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  the  military  pillar  of 
the  rebellion.  The  General  hurriedly  retired  into  his 
quarters,  and  our  attention  was  attracted  by  a  motley 
array  of  rebel  soldiery  marching  up  the  road.  Could 
we  have  forgotten  the  stern  realities  of  our  situation,  we 
might  well  have  regarded  the  display  as  a  military  bur 
lesque.  On  a  closer  inspection,  we  found  the  butternut 
phalanx  to  be  composed  of  tall,  lank  specimens  of  "poor 
white  trash,"  with  hats  slouched  in  the  most  approved 
style,  and  knapsacks  of  every  conceivable  variety.  The 
officers  were,  many  of  them,  equipped  with  swords  of  a 
most  ancient  description,  which  had  already  filled  a  term 
of  service  in  the  olden  time.  Here  is  a  man  with  a  very 
good  blanket,  and  we  soon  see  the  letters  U.  S.  displayed 
under  the  folds,  while  on  another  back  is  strapped  an 
old  piece  of  carpet.  A  more  dirty,  seedy,  ill-favored, 
border-ruffian,  ignorant  set  of  men  we  had  never  met 
before,  and  this  is  just  the  material  for  an  efficient  army, 
marshalled  in  defence  of  treason  and  slavery. 

The  preparations  were  now  completed,  and  under  a 
strong  guard  we  started  off  for  Spottsylvania  Court- 
House.  The  roads  were  full  of  Confederate  wounded, 
moving  to  the  rear.  Our  route  crossed  a  section  of  the 
battle-field,  but  all  was  now  quiet ;  only  splintered  trees 
and  lines  of  breastworks  told  of  the  fierce  conflicts  of 
the  last  few  days.  At  dusk  we  entered  the  now  historic 
8 


58  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

town  of  Spotisylvania,  and  passed  the  night  within  the 
inclosure  of  the  Court-House.  A  portion  of  the  regiment 
remained  in  the  vicinity  of  the  battle  ground,  and  did  not 
reach  the  village  until  the  following  afternoon.  On  the 
morning  of  May  fourth  we  resumed  our  march  for 
Guinea's  Station,  a  small  hamlet  on  the  Richmond  and 
Fredericksburg  railroad,  important  as  a  depot  of  sup 
plies  for  Lee's  army.  Here  seemed  to  be  the  general 
rendezvous  of  prisoners,  and  fifteen  hundred  had  already 
been  assembled  previous  to  our  arrival.  Near  the  sta 
tion  was  the  house  where  Stonewall  Jackson  lay  wounded 
and  afterward  died,  an  event  which  clothed  'the  whole 
Confederacy  in  mourning.  Our  stay  at  Guinea's  Station 
was  prolonged  until  Thursday,  May  seventh — three  days 
of  misery,  hardly  paralleled  in  any  of  the  experiences  of 
the  whole  nine  months'  campaign.  Tuesday  dawned 
upon  ns  intensely  hot.  The  broiling  rays  of  the  sun 
seemed  to  concentrate  upon  the  large  open  lot  occupied 
by  the  Union  prisoners,  unrelieved  even  by  a  solitary 
tree.  Later  in  the  clay  a  terrific  thunder  shower  burst 
upon  us,  passing  at  length  into  a  settled  storm,  bitterly 
raw  and  cold,  continuing  all  night  and  the  next  day 
at  short  intervals.  The  rain  poured  in  torrents,  flow 
ing  in  streams  across  the  lot.  A  ludicrous  sight,  indeed, 
were  the  nearly  two  thousand  shelterless  men,  emphatic 
ally  squatter  sovereigns,  scattered  about  over  the  field  in 
speechless  resignation,  drenched  through  and  through  in 
the  pelting  storm. 

Thus  far  we  had  subsisted  on  the  scanty  remains  of 
Uncle  Sam's  rations.  "  What  a  fall  was  there  !"  when 
we  descended  from  Joe  Hooker's  generous  hospitality  to 
the  frugal  fare  doled  out  to  us  by  the  rebel  commissary. 
A  brief  residence  at  one  of  Jeff.'s  hotels  is  an  infallible 


CONNECTICUT    VOLUNTEERS.  59 

remedy  for  all  who  are  disposed  to  grumble  at  army 
food.  The  order  is  given,  "  Fall  in  for  rations !"  "We 
had  almost  concluded  that  this  order  would  never  again 
greet  our  ears  until  we  should  once  more  stand  under 
the  flag  of  the  Union.  Immediately  our  thoughts  recur 
red  to  camp  near  Falmouth,  and  in  imagination  float 
ed  visions  of  beef,  pork,  hard-tack,  fresh  bread — in  fact, 
Uncle  Sam's  army  ration  loomed  up  in  bolder  relief  than 
ever  before.  In  silent  suspense  we  advance  and  receive 
— three  pints  of  flour  apiece.  The  inquiry  arose,  What 
shall  we  do  with  it  ?  Our  extremely  limited  culinary 
facilities  soon  settled  that  question.  There  was  but  one 
alternative,  and  the  men  immediately  built  little  fires 
and  were  busily  engaged  in  cooking  up  a  bill  of  fare  for 
the  march  to  Richmond,  said  bill  of  fare  consisting  sim 
ply  of  flour  and  water  mixed  together  and  dried  before 
the  fire.  A  New-England  farmer  would  regard  it  as  a 
personal  insult  if  one  should  offer  such  stuff  to  his  hogs. 
Even  a  swill-carrier  would  indignantly  protest. 

Many  suggestive  sights  fed  our  curiosity.  Processions 
of  trains  were  constantly  coming  and  going  from  the 
station,  transporting  supplies  for  Lee's  army.  Shabby 
army  wagons — regular  Noah's  arks  mounted  on  wheels — 
horses  and  mules  reduced  to  mere  skin  and  bone — every 
thing  foreshadowed  the  ruin  of  the  Confederacy.  Thurs 
day  morning,  May  seventh,  we  began  the  march  for 
Richmond,  escorted  by  the  Twelfth  South  Carolina. 
The  roads  were  in  an  awful  condition,  in  consequence  of 
recent  rains.  On  the  route  we  passed  through  Bowling 
Green,  a  few  miles  east  of  the  railroad,  and  by  evening 
reached  Milford  Station.  Just  beyond  the  village  we 
were  obliged  to  wade  the  Mattapony  river,  and  halted 
for  the  night  in  a  forest  near  by.  After  a  toilsome 


60  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

march,  we  bivouacked,  on  Friday  evening,  a  short  dis 
tance  beyond  Hanover  Station.  At  this  place  each  man 
received  five  medium -sized  crackers  and  an  ounce  of 
bacon.  Our  guards  were  very  incommunicative,  but 
occasionally  sung  out,  "  Git  in  yer  groups  of  fours  dar  !" 
or  ventured  an  "  I  reckon,"  or  a  "  right  smart." 

May  ninth  seemed  to  concentrate  and  intensify  all 
previous  discomforts.  The  day  was  exceedingly  hot, 
and  our  route  lay  through  a  succession  of  vile  swamps, 
skirting  the  Pamunkeyand  Chickahominy  rivers,  and  ex 
tending  to  within  four  or  five  miles  of  Richmond.  Here 
the  ground  is  somewhat  higher,  and  pleasant  villas  nestle 
among  the  trees,  now  just  assuming  the  verdure  of  spring. 
As  we  passed  one  of  these  residences,  the  proprietor — an 
old  gentleman — and  the  women  turned  out  en  masse  to 
view  the  procession.  No  doubt  we  did  present  a  rather 
sorry  plight ;  at  any  rate,  these  high-bred  F.  F.  V.'s 
laughed  exultingly,  and  were  loud  and  profuse  in  their 
remarks,  complimentary  to  Yankees  in  general  and  us  in 
particular.  "  Oh !  well,  you  have  got  to  Richmond  now  !" 
screeched  out  one  of  them  with  all  the  impotent  ire  she 
could  muster.  "  Next  time  we  are  coming  with  guns," 
was  the  reply.  "  Yes,  yes,"  chimed  in  the  old  man,  "  we 
saw  a  lot  of  you  fellows  last  summer  over  there,"  point 
ing  with  his  cane  in  the  direction  of  McClellan's  achieve 
ments  in  the  Chickahominy  swamps.  Thus  a  running 
fire  of  words  was  kept  up  all  along  the  line. 

We  could  now  see  in  the  distance  the  spires  of  the 
rebel  capital.  Just  outside  the  city,  lines  of  earthworks, 
with  here  and  there  a  frowning  cannon,  commanded  the 
road.  Our  flattering  reception  thus  far  in  the  villages 
along  the  route  from  Guinea's  Station  led  us  to  expect 
even  greater  demonstrations  from  the  Richmond  popu- 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  61 

lace.  As  we  entered  the  city,  it  seemed  as  if  all  Rich 
mond  had  turned  out  to  view  the  Yankee  parade.  The 
streets  in  the  suburbs  were  full  of  people — men,  women, 
and  children,  whites,  negroes,  mulattoes — all  in  one  con 
fused  crowd,  and  swayed  for  the  most  part  with  clam 
orous  exultation  ;  while  "  her  beauty  and  her  chivalry," 
arm  in  arm,  gloated  over  the  scene  with  a  kind  of  fiend 
ish  delight.  One  old  woman,  raising  her  arms  in  blank 
astonishment,  screamed  out :  "  Why,  all  Hooker's  army 
is  corning !"  We  thought  to  ourselves,  she  is  about 
right ;  Hooker's  army  will  be  here  one  of  these  days, 
and  with  guns  too.  "What  have  you  come  down  here 
for  ?"  demanded  one,  Avhose  very  countenance  flashed 
vengeance.  "  Oh !  we  are  only  Hooker's  advance  guard, 
come  down  to  act  as  pall-bearers  at  Stonewall  Jackson's 
funeral,"  some  one  quietly  replied.  In  his  rage  he  an 
swered  :  "  If  you  were  not  a  prisoner,  I'd  shoot  you 
down."  "  You've  got  to  Richmond  in  a  way  you  didn't 
expect."  "  See  these  Yanks  ;  there's  hardly  an  honest 
face  among  'em  all."  "  What  a  hang-dog  look !"  These, 
and  many  other  expressions,  of  all  degrees  of  refinement, 
were  launched  at  us.  It  really  seemed  as  if  the  chivalry 
had  studied  for  this  very  occasion  some  vocabulary  of 
Billingsgate,  and  practiced  it  beforehand,  so  as  to  get  it 
off  in  the  most  approved  style  of  grimace  and  tone. 
Although  Richmond  was  the  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  of 
treason,  and  the  concentrated  essence  of  rebel  villainy 
and  venom,  we  were  not  left  entirely  to  this  dark  view 
of  the  picture.  While  we  stood  in  the  street,  just  before 
entering  Jeff.'s  hotel,  a  German  woman,  in  the  kindness 
and,  I  believe,  loyalty  of  her  heart,  came  hurriedly  out 
from  a  neighboring  house  with  a  large  loaf  of  cake,  and 
divided  it  up  among  the  eager  men.  She  then  went 


62  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

back,  but  soon  returned,  laden  with  a  lot  of  bread,  which 
she  distributed  in  like  manner.  Several  other  instances 
of  similar  character  occurred,  like  flashes  of  golden  sun 
light  in  a  dark  and  lowering  sky. 

Wearied  by  the  day's  march  and  its  exciting  scenes, 
and  exhausted  through  want  of  food,  most  of  the  men 
were  now  ushered  into  a  tobacco  factory  belonging  to 
Crew  and  Pemberton,  and  situated  on  Carey  street,  op 
posite  the  infamous  Libby  prison,  of  which  it  is  a  coun 
terpart.  More  than  a  thousand  men  were  stowed  away 
in  Crew  and  Pemberton's  factory,  an  average  of  nearly 
three  hundred  in  each  story.  Two  hundred  and  eighty- 
nine,  including  the  larger  part  of  the  Twenty-seventh, 
occupied  the  upper  loft,  and  when  all  reclined  upon  the 
floor  almost  every  square  foot  was  covered.  Many  were 
so  thoroughly  exhausted  as  to  be  unable  to  drag  them 
selves  np-stairs  without  assistance  from  their  comrades. 
Also,  Belle  Island  welcomed  a  small  number  to  its  sands 
and  wild  onions.  Forty  or  fifty  of  the  men  were  as 
signed  to  Libby  prison,  where  were  already  quartered 
the  commissioned  officers  of  the  Twenty-seventh.  The 
latter  had  arrived  in  Richmond  a  day  or  two  previous, 
after  a  journey  in  crowded  cars  from  Guinea's  Station. 
The  people  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  the  route  seemed 
in  a  perfect  ferment  of  vindictive  excitement,  and  gath 
ered  here  and  there  in  boisterous  groups  to  gaze  at  the 
unusual  pageant.  The  Virginia  women  were  especially 
spiteful,  in  word  and  demeanor.  Some  of  them,  perched 
in  conspicuous  places,  waved  little  Confederate  flags,  as 
if  to  attract  the  more  attention,  and  shouted  out,  "  That's 
what's  the  matter  !"  "  Come  on,  you  cursed  rascals !" 
"  Have  you  got  Old  Abe  with  you  ?"  "Ain't  you  a  sweet- 
looking  party  ?"  The  usual  miscellaneous  assemblage 


CONNECTICUT    VOLUNTEERS.  63 

greeted  them  as  they  alighted  in  Broad  street,  and  seem 
ed  very  eager  to  remind  them  of  their  advent  in  the 
rebel  capital.  "Well,  you've  got  here,  have' yon?" 
4  How  do  you  like  the  place?"  "You're  a  sweet-look 
ing  crowd  of  thieves,  aren't  you?"  Thus  they  were  es 
corted  to  Libby,  and  handed  over  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  Captain  Turner  and  his  assistants,  who  searched  the 
prisoners,  and  appropriated  all  contraband  articles. 

The  day  following  the  arrival  of  the  main  body  of  the 
regiment  was  the  Sabbath,  just  one  week  since  we  fell 
into  rebel  hands.  During  t  iis  week  all  the  rations  each 
man  received  from  the  rebel  authorities  amounted  to 
three  pints  of  flour,  five  medium-sized  crackers,  and  an 
ounce  or  two  of  bacon.  All  day  Sunday  the  men  were 
clamorous  for  something  to  eat.  The  guards  about  the 
prison  were  under  strict  orders  to  prevent  the  people 
from  selling  any  thing  to  the  prisoners,  but,  notwith 
standing  this,  some  articles  did  pass  the  blockade.  At 
evening,  the  rebels  distributed  to  every  four  men  what 
purported  to  be  a  four-pound  loaf  of  bread,  and  a  pound 
of  pork.  Less  than  three  pounds  of  bread  would  be 
nearer  the  truth,  making  about  ten  or  twelve  ounces  for 
each  man,  and  this  with  three  ounces  of  p«»rk  formed  the 
daily  ration  for  one  person.  As  far  as  it  went,  it  was 
very  good.  Every  morning  the  prison  director,  with  the 
rank  of  major,  and  his  clerk,  a  renegade  New-Yorker — 
precious  scoundrels  both  of  them — came  into  the  prison 
to  count  us  over,  and  see  if  we  were  all  there. 

Thus  affairs  continued  for  several  days — the  same  dull 
routine  of  prison  life,  varied  by  nothing  except  the  con 
traband  reading  of  Richmond  papers,  with  accounts  of 
Stonewall  Jackson's  funeral,  at  which  there  was  great 
joy  in  Libby.  At  length,  on  Wednesday  morning,  came 


64  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

the  glad  announcement  that  the  United  States  trans 
ports  were  at  City  Point,  awaiting  our  arrival.  The 
rebel  officers  administered  to  us  the  following  paroling 
oath  :  "  We,  the  undersigned,  do  solemnly  swear  and 
pledge  our  sacred  word,  that  we  will  not,  during  the  ex 
isting  hostilities  between  the  United  States  and  the  Con 
federate  States  of  America,  aid  or  abet  the  enemies  of 
said  Confederate  States,  by  arms  or  otherwise,  until  reg 
ularly  and  legally  exchanged,  or  otherwise  released.  So 
help  me  God.  And  we  do  acknowledge  our  names  ap 
pended  to  the  same,  as  though  signed  by  ourselves."  At 
half-past  three  in  the  afternoon,  with  gladness  indescrib 
able,  we  left  those  prison  walls,  to  enter  upon  the  march 
to  City  Point,  a  place  about  thirty-five  miles  from  Rich 
mond.  Crossing  the  James  river  into  Manchester,  we 
took  the  turnpike  road  to  Petersburg,  under  the  escort 
chiefly  of  cavalry.  The  rebels  hurried  us  forward  for 
miles  almost  at  double-quick,  without  any  halt.  As  Ma 
jor  Turner  rode  by,  the  men  called  to  him  for  a  rest, 
lie  shouted  out,  "  There  is  no  rest  for  the  wicked  !"  and 
passed  on. 

It  was  the  purpose  of  our  escort  to  continue  the  march 
all  night,  but  a  thunder-storm  of  surpassing  violence 
seriously  interfered.  A  darkness,  so  intense  that  we 
could  not  see  a  foot  before  us,  enveloped  the  road. 
Slowly,  through  mud,  and  rain,  and  darkness,  we  strag 
gled  along,  until  near  midnight.  It  was  impossible  to 
go  further.  Scattered  along  the  roadside  for  miles  were 
hundreds  too  much  exhausted  to  keep  up  with  the  col 
umn,  and  finally  we  all  dragged  ourselves  into  the 
marshy  woods,  and,  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  babbling 
brooks  flowing  around  us  in  every  direction,  forgot 
awhile  the  fatigue  of  the  march.  At  an  early  hour  the 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  65 

next  clay  the  weary  column  again  moves  on,  each  man 
sustaining  his  waning  strength  by  frequent  halts.  Pe 
tersburg  is  passed,  and  ten  miles  more  of  mud.  At 
length  the  waters  of  the  James  river  glimmer  in  the 
distance  ;  the  old  flag,  floating  proudly  at  the  masthead 
of  the  Union  transports,  beckons  onward.  The  men  at 
tempt  to  cheer,  but  it  dies  on  their  lips ;  nature  is  too 
much  exhausted  to  utter  the  feelings  which  swell  all 
hearts.  With  renewed  energy  we  press  forward,  and 
soon  enter  the  deserted  village  of  City  Point,  whose  shat 
tered  roofs  tell  of  a  former  bombardment.  That  march 
from  Richmond  to  City  Point  stands  almost  unexampled 
in  the  whole  experience  of  the  Twenty-seventh.  Many 
were  ready  to  drop  on  the  ground  from  utter  inability 
to  go  further.  Behind  them  frowned  the  grim,  historic 
walls  of  Libby ;  dreary  months  of  incarceration  moved 
by  in  slow  procession,  crowded  full  with  the  records  of 
cruelty,  and  starvation,  and  disease ;  while  forward  to 
freedom  and  humanity,  forward  to  generous  care  and  pro 
tection,  written  on  every  fold  of  the  old  flag,  fired  them 
with  new  determination  to  toil  on.  Once  more  they 
stand  on  a  Union  deck,  resolved  to  strike  a  heavier  blow 
for  their  country  when  again  they  advance  to  meet  her 
barbarous  foes.  As  soon  as  the  men  were  aboard  the 
transports,  a  supply  of  food  was  distributed  to  meet  their 
pressing  wants.  The  steamers  quietly.dropped  down  the 
beautiful  James  river,  bordered  with  high  banks,  rich 
in  the  fresh  verdure  of  spring,  with  here  and  there  a 
handsome  villa  peering  above  the  trees.  We  anchored 
for  the  night  at  Harrison's  Landing,  an  important  point 
in  the  history  of  the  Peninsular  campaign.  The  next 
forenoon  our  transports  steamed  into  Hampton  Roads. 
Hampton,  once  the  summer  resort  of  the  Virginia  chiv- 


66  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

airy,  Newport  News,  the  distant  spires  .of  Norfolk,  the 
topmast  of  the  Cumberland  still  pointing  skyward,  the  lit 
tle  monitors,  and  the  Rip-Raps,  and  that  grand  old  senti 
nel,  Fortress  Monroe,  all  crowd  on  the  view  as  we  round 
to  at  Old  Point  Comfort.  A  brief  stop,  and  we  are  off 
again  for  Annapolis,  where  we  arrive  on  the  morning  of 
May  sixteenth,  and  are  quartered  in  barracks  in  the 
rear  of  the  town.  After  three  days  of  rest,  we  start  for 
Alexandria,  by  way  of  Chesapeake  Bay  and  the  Poto 
mac,  and  on  May  twenty-first  are  introduced  within  the 
narrow  precincts  of  Convalescent  Camp. 

The  majority  of  the  officers  were  detained  in  Rich 
mond  several  days  after  the  departure  of  the  privates. 
Meanwhile,  the  rebels  had  been  threatening  retaliation 
for  General  Burnside's  execution  of  two  spies,  in  Ken 
tucky  ;  and  the  officials  in  charge  of  Libby  took  great 
delight  in  telling  our  officers  that  they  were  to  have 
tickets  in  the  lottery,  which  would  determine  the  victims 
of  the  lex  talionis.  A  few  days  later,  they  were  re 
lieved  of  their  suspense  by  the  announcement  that  the 
lot  had  fallen  upon  two  officers  from  Tennessee.  This 
affair  having  been  arranged  satisfactorily  to  the  rebel 
authorities,  the  officers  of  the  Twenty-seventh  received 
their  parole  early  Saturday  morning,  May  twenty-third, 
and  started  in  freight  cars  for  City  Point,  and  from  that 
place  were  transported,  via  Fortress  Monroe,  to  Annap 
olis,  where  they  arrived  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty- 
fifth. 

Leaving  the  paroled  prisoners  of  the  Twenty-seventh 
to  endure  as  best  they  can  the  idleness  and  discontent  of 
Convalescent  Camp,  let  us  return  in  thought  to  the  wilds 
of  Chancellorsville,  and  from  those  scenes  of  the  third 
gf  May  follow  the  little  band  which  still  remains  at  the 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  67 

front,  to  ear  our  flag  to  victory  on  the  heights  of  Get 
tysburg.  Eight  companies  were  captured  on  that  mem 
orable  May  morning  ;  but  D  and  F,  having  been  de 
tached  for  duty  elsewhere,  escaped  this  unexpected  mis 
fortune,  and  fell  back  with  the  main  army,  when  General 
Hooker  retired  to  his  new  line  of  battle.  Meanwhile, 
the  duties  of  these  remnants  of  the  regiment  were  some 
what  disconnected.  During  Saturday  night  following 
the  disaster  of  the  Eleventh  Corps,  Company  A  had 
been  out  on  picket  duty,  and  were  relieved  by  Company 
D,  at  an  early  hour  the  next  morning,  in  time  to  accom 
pany  the  main  body  of  the  regiment  to  the  place  where 
they  were  captured.  Company  F  had  been  previously 
detached  to  fill  up  a  gap  in  the  line  between  the  Fifty- 
third  and  One  Hundred  and  Forty-fifth  Pennsylvania, 
and  were  soon  after  ordered  up  to  the  Chancellor  House 
to  support  the  famous  Pettit's  battery.  Here  they  re 
mained  until  Sunday  afternoon,  under  a  severe  fire. 
Twice  the  rebels  charged  up  in  solid  masses,  but  were 
repulsed  before  Pettit's  rapid  and  irresistible  volleys.  In 
the  evening  of  that  day  Company  F  went  out  on  picket, 
and  continued  in  this  duty  until  the  following  Monday 
night.  It  was  on  this  part  of  the  line  that  Stonewall 
Jackson  received,  his  mortal  wound. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  when  the  regiment  went 
down  to  the  picket-line  that  Sabbath  morning,  the  colors 
remained  behind  bv  order  of  General  Brooke.  Although 

•/  CD 

the  rifle-pits  were  now  entirely  deserted,  the  color-guard, 
having  no  orders  to  leave,  maintained  their  position  until 
ten  A.M.,  much  of  the  time  under  a  severe  shelling.  At 
that  hour  they  were  ordered  to  the  rear,  and  soon  after 
joined  Company  D,  which  was  the  last  to  leave  the  old 
picket-line  of  the  army,  as  stated  by  the  staff  officer  who 


OS  THE    T WE  XT Y  SEVENTH 

brought  to  them  the  orders  to  fall  back.  The  various 
remnants  of  the  Twenty-seventh  were  not  reunited  until 
a  late  hour  on  Monday. 

The  conflict  of  Sabbatli  morning,  May  third,  termi 
nated  at  eleven  o'clock,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  fee 
ble  demonstration  by  Jackson's  forces  in  the  afternoon, 
the  remainder  of  the  day  passed  in  comparative  quiet. 
Meanwhile,  Hooker  had  contracted  his  lines,  and  the 
array  was  now  massed  within  a  nearly  equilateral  trian 
gle,  its  base  resting  upon  the  Rappahannock.  The  Elev 
enth  and  Twelfth  Corps  occupied  the  side  facing  Fred- 
ericksburg.  On  the  side  looking  toward  the  Rapidan 
were  the  First,  Third,  and  Fifth,  while  our  Second  corps 
was  formed  in  four  compact  lines  at  the  angle,  which  was 
open  ground  about  a  two-story  white  house,  on  the  Ely's 
Ford  road,  near  the  junction  with  that  leading  to  United 
States  Ford.  This  was  a  strong  position,  favorable  for 
artillery,  and  justly  regarded  as  the  most  important  in 
the  whole  line.  The  Twenty-seventh  held  a  position  to 
the  left  of  the  white  house,  where  General  Hooker  now 
had  his  headquarters.  Such  continued  to  be  the  situa 
tion  of  the  army  during  the  succeeding  two  days.  The 
enemy  seemed  disinclined  to  venture  a  general  attack, 
but  occasionally  shelled  our  intrenchments,  as  if  to  re 
assure  themselves  that  Hooker  was  still  there.  -  Affairs 
could  not  remain  long  in  this  doubtful  state.  The  gold 
en  opportunity  to  crush  the  rebels,  when  the  thunder 
of  Sedgwick's  cannon,  advancing  from  Fredericksburg, 
filled  the  breezes  with  the  murmuring  notes  of  success, 
had  passed,  and  now  every  hour  of  delay  added  to  the 
swelling  torrent  of  the  Rappahannock,  threatening  to 
sweep  away  the  feeble  threads  which  connected  the  army 
with  its  supplies. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  69 

Monday  evening,  May  fourth,  General  Hooker  held  a 
council  of  war,  which  decided  that  it  was  best  to  with 
draw  the  army  the  following  night.  Accordingly,  eight 
o'clock,  Tuesday  evening,  was  the  hour  fixed  upon ;  but 
the  troops  did  not  begin  to  move  until  after  midnight, 
in  consequence  of  a  heavy  storm,  which  carried  away 
some  of  the  bridges.  The  Twenty-seventh  remained  un 
der  arms  all  night,  in  the  rain,  with  orders  to  be  ready 
to  start  at  any  moment.  At  length,  at  four  in  the  morn 
ing  of  May  sixth,  the  regiment  fell  back  with  the  rest  of 
the  brigade,  re-crossed  at  United  States  Ford,  and,  after 
a  march  of  twelve  hours,  arrived  at  the  old  camp,  near 
Falmouth.  The  Sixty-fourth  New-York  were  found  qui 
etly  ensconced  in  the  few  huts  which  the  scavengers  of 
Falmouth  had  left  standing,  and  demurred  somewhat  at 
leaving  their  grateful  shelter,  but  finally  recognized  the 
prior  claim  of  the  Twenty-seventh.  After  a  few  days, 
the  regiment  changed  its  camp  to  a  more  healthy  location 
two  miles  further  back  from  the  river.  The  losses  of 
Hooker's  campaign  had  reduced  our  numbers  from  nearly 
four  hundred  men  to  one  hundred  and  sixty,  embracing  D 
and  F,  and  small  squads  of  other  companies,  the  whole 
under  command  of  the  senior  officer,  Captain  Joseph  R. 
Bradley,  of  Company  F.  Dress  parades  took  place  as 
usual,  and  duty  at  the  old  picket-line  on  the  Rappa- 
hannock  was  resumed,  bearing  very  heavily  upon  our 
diminished  ranks.  Occasionally  the  rebel  pickets  shout 
ed  across  the  river  to  know  where  the  Twenty-seventh 
Connecticut  had  gone,  and  in  the  same  breath  gave  the 
answer,  "To  picket  around  Richmond."  On  the  thir 
teenth  of  May,  several  of  our  wounded  men  came  over 
from  Fredericksburg,  having  been  nine  days  in  the  rebel 
hospitals. 


70  THE   TWENTY- SEVENTH 

After  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  General  D.  N". 
Couch,  the  corps  commander,  was  relieved  at  his  own 
request,  and  our  division  general,  W.  S.  Hancock,  just 
ly  characterized  as  the  very  impersonation  of  war,  suc 
ceeded  to  the  command.  As  soon  as  possible,  after  the 
return  of  our  commissioned  officers  from  Richmond,  a 
part  were  exchanged,  and  at  the  earliest  moment  Colo 
nel  Bostwick  returned  to  the  front,  followed  by  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Merwin,  Major  Coburn,  and  Lieutenants 
Frank  Chapman,  Burdict,  Rice,  Muhlner,  and  Cross, 
who  rejoined  the  regiment  on  the  eleventh  of  June. 
Colonel  Bostwick,  being  prevented  from  remaining  with 
his  men,  in  consequence  of  a  severe  and  protracted  sick 
ness,  the  Lieutenant-Colonel  took  command  of  the  bat 
talion,  which  now  consisted  of  three  companies,  an  ad 
ditional  one  having  been  formed  from  the  remnants  of 
the  captured  companies,  and  placed  under  command  of 
Captain  Jedediah  Chapman. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  VI 


CHAPTER    VII. 

GETTYSBURG. 

THE  result  of  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville  determined 
General  Lee  to  carry  out  his  cherished  plan  of  invading 
the  North.  Hooker's  position  in  front  of  Fredericks- 
burg  being  unfavorable  for  attack,  the  rebel  chief  early 
in  June  began  a  series  of  movements  with  the  view  of 
drawing  him  away  from  the  river.  Leaving  Hill's  corps 
in  the  works  at  Fredericksburg,  to  keep  up  appear 
ances,  he  concentrated  Swell's,  Longstreet's,  and  Hood's 
forces  at  Cul pepper  Court-House,  near  the  upper  waters 
of  the  Rappahannock,  and  about  the  middle  of  June, 
pushed  forward  rapidly  into  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  and 
either  captured  or  defeated  the  feeble  Union  force  oppos 
ing  his  march.  Meanwhile,  Hooker's  watchful  eye  was 
upon  him,  and  the  Sixth  Corps  crossed  the  river  just  be 
low  Fredericksburg  to  determine  the  strength  and  in 
tentions  of  the  rebels.  A  few  days  later,  several  army 
corps  broke  camp,  and  started  off  in  the  direction  of 
Warrenton,  for  the  purpose  of  wratching  the  movements 
of  the  enemy,  and  covering  the  approaches  to  Washing 
ton  ;  while  on  the  ninth  the  cavalry  inflicted  a  severe 
blow  upon  Jeb.  Stuart's  troopers,  who  were  gathering  in 
strong  force  at  Kelly's  Ford,  twenty-five  miles  above  Fal- 
mouth,  intending  to  sweep  with  destruction  the  fertile 
fields  of  Pennsylvania. 


72  THE    TWENTY  SEVENTH 

The  Second  Corps  was  the  last  to  leave  the  line  of  the 
Rappahannock.  On  the  eighth  of  June,  the  Twenty- 
seventh  Connecticut  received  orders  to  be  ready  to  march 
at  any  time,  with  three  days'  rations,  and  continued  in 
this  waiting  posture  until  the  fourteenth  instant,  when 
the  final  orders  came,  and  at  three  P.M.  the  regiment, 
with  the  rest  of  the  brigade  acting  as  rear-guard  to  the 
corps,  moved  up  the  river  to  Banks's  Ford,  relieved  our 
pickets,  reconnoitered  the  enemy,  and  retired  toward 
Stafford  Court-House.  This  little  hamlet  was  left  be 
hind  in  flames.  For  several  days  the  corps  followed 
the  roads  near  the  Potomac,  passing  through  Dumfries, 
Occoquan,  and  Fairfax  Station,  halting  here  two  days, 
and  arriving  at  Centreville  on  the  nineteenth.  The  route 
now  turned  still  farther  to  the  left,  crossing  the  old  Bull 
Run  battle-field,  which  had  witnessed  the  decision  of 
two  campaigns.  Time  had  not  eifaced  the  evidences  ot 
those  disastrous  days.  Silently  the  troops  moved  over 
.the  field,  and  the  thoughts  of  many  a  one  among  the  old 
er  regiments,  and  of  some  in  our  own,  hurried  back  to 
those  scenes  with  impressive  distinctness,  as  the  bleached 
bones  of  the  fallen,  or  the  rubbish  of  battle,  lay  scattered 
along  the  roadside.  After  a  severe  march  of  twenty 
miles  in  the  rain,  the  regiment  arrived,  at  ten  in  the 
evening  of  June  twentieth,  at  Thoroughfare  Gap,  a  wild 
gorge  in  the  Blue  Ridge.  The  intensely  exhausting 
march  from  Falmouth  made  the  four  days  of  compara 
tive  rest  at  the  Gap  exceedingly  welcome.  Here  the 
troops  were  occupied  in  picketing  the  pass,  in  order  to 
prevent  the  enemy  from  crossing  the  mountains.  Mean 
while,  to  the  north,  Stuart  and  Pleasanton  were  once 
more  on  the  charge  at  Aldie,  Upperville,  and  Middle- 
burg,  and  their  muffled  cannonade  echoed  among  these 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  73 

hills  and  pleasant  valleys,  surely  not  unused  to  the 
sound,  repeating  itself  again  and  again,  as  if  from  as 
many  different  directions. 

June  twenty-fifth,  the  regiment  fell  in  at  an  early  hour, 
ready  to  fight  or  march,  as  circumstances  might  require, 
for  the  rebels  were  approaching  with  malicious  intent  to 
capture  the  corps'  beef  cattle  and  supply  train,  and  sharp 
picket  firing  indicated  the  possible  necessity  of  adopting 
the  former  alternative.  But  after  remaining  in  line  of 
battle,  with  no  serious  demonstration  on  the  part  of  the 
enemy,  the  corps  advanced  through  Haymarket,  toward 
the  Potomac.  The  rebel  cavalry  followed  vigorously, 
and  attempted  to  come  in  on  our  flanks,  but  skirmishers 
Avere  thrown  out,  and  the  troops  marched  in  hollow 
squares,  prepared  to  repel  any  attack.  At  Haymarket, 
the  batteries  turned  on  the  enemy,  and  drove  them 
back.  The  column  pushed  forward  to  Gum  Springs,  and 
without  pitching  tents  rested  that  night  on  their  arms, 
drawn  up  in  a  hollow  square,  ready  at  a  moment's  warn 
ing  to  meet  any  assault  of  rebel  cavalry.  At  midnight 
of  June  twenty-sixth,  the  regiment  crossed  the  Potomac 
at  Edwrard's  Ferry.  The  next  three  days  passed  in 
continuous  marching  up  the  valley  of  the  Monocacy 
river,  through  many  quiet  Maryland  villages,  among 
them  Poolesville,  Frederick  City,  Liberty,  Johnsville,  and 
Uniontown.  Each  day's  march  was  very  protracted — 
that  from  Frederick  City  to  Uniontown  embracing  a  dis 
tance  of  thirty-six  miles,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
performed  elicited  high  compliments  from  Colonel 
Brooke,  commanding  the  brigade. 

Thus  far  the  army  had  been  manoeuvred  so  as  to  cover 
Washington  and  Baltimore,  and  now,  as  the  rebel  plans 
became  more  apparent,  General  Meade,  who  had  re- 


74  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

cently  superseded  General  Hooker,  directed  a  concen 
tration  of  his  forces  in  the  vicinity  of  Gettysburg.  The 
First  Corps  held  the  advance,  followed  by  the  Eleventh, 
and  on  Wednesday  morning,  July  first,  drove  the 
enemy's  skirmishers  through  the  town.  General  Rey 
nolds,  in  command  of  the  corps,  without  hesitation 
moved  forward  to  the  attack,  and  met  death  while 
bravely  posting  his  troops  on  the  heights  beyond.  The 
rebels  fell  back  slowly,  in  order  to  give  time  for  Swell's 
men  to  come  to  their  aid,  and  this  being  accomplished, 
they  were  more  than  a  match  for  the  combined  First 
and  Eleventh,  with  whose  now  united  columns  rested  the 
decision  of  the  day.  At  three  in  the  afternoon,  the 
enemy,  thus  reenforced,  took  the  offensive,  and  compelled 
General  Howard,  now  ir^  command,  to  withdraw  his 
troops  to  the  south  of  the  town,  and  the  close  of  the  day 
left  him  securely  intrenched  on  Cemetery  Hill. 

While  these  scenes  were  taking  place  around  Gettys 
burg,  the  Twenty-seventh  Connecticut,  with  its  corps, 
leisurely  moved  up  to  Taneytown,  just  below  the  Penn 
sylvania  State  line.  Here  the  troops  rested  a  few  hours, 
unconscious  that  the  first  of  a  trio  of  glorious  battle  days 
was  already  in  progress.  But  soon  the  ominous  notes 
of  Howard's  and  Swell's  cannon  strike  on  the  ear,  and 
add  new  emphasis  to  the  call  from  the  front  for  ree'n- 
forcements.  Preceded  by  General  Hancock,  the  corps 
advanced  rapidly  to  within  three  miles  of  Gettysburg, 
and  were  occupied  until  midnight  in  throwing  up  in- 
trenchments.  At  early  dawn,  July  second,  the  brigades 
moved  forward  to  take  the  places  assigned  them  in  the 
line  of  battle.  Already  the  fitful  fire  of  opposing  pickets 
and  skirmishers  can  be  heard  in  the  distance,  with  the 
occasional  boom  of  heavy  ordnance.  The  shock  of 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  75 

battle,  which  is  to  determine  the  fate  of  the  rebel  in 
vasion,  will  at  the  farthest  be  postponed  but  a  few 
hours.  Just  before  coining  into  position,  and  while  the 
troops  were  resting  under  arms,  the  commander  of  our 
brigade  assembled  the  officers,  and  briefly  reminded 
them  of  the  desperate  character  of  the  emergency,  and 
urged  the  importance  and  necessity  of  devoting  every 
energy  to  insure  the  successful  issue  of  the  conflict. 

In  order  to  understand  the  various  positions  of  the 
Twenty-seventh  during  the  action,  let  us  briefly  sketch 
the  line  of  battle,  as  adopted  by  General  Hancock,  and 
along  which  the  several  corps  were  arranged,  as  they 
arrived  on  the  field.  Three  important  roads,  the  Emmetts- 
burg,  Taneytown,  and  Baltimore  turnpike,  converge 
in  Gettysburg  from  the  south.  At  their  junction,  just 
below  the  town,  is  the  natural  key  of  the  position,  the 
now  historic  Cemetery  Hill.  This  elevation  forms  the 
northern  end  of  a  ridge  prolonged  about  four  miles,  al 
most  exactly  due  south,  near  to  and  parallel  with  the 
Taneytown  road,  gradually  diminishing  in  altitude  until 
it  almost  loses  itself  in  the  surrounding  level,  then  rises 
again  into  the  forest-crowned  Little  Round  Top,  or 
Weed's  Hill,  and  terminates  in  the  yet  higher  ascent  of 
Rocky  Round  Top  itself.  Beginning  on  the  left  at  Round 
Top,  the  Union  line  extends  northward  in  nearly  a 
straight  course  along  Cemetery  Ridge,  and  at  Cemetery 
Hill  bends  back  to  the  east  in  the  general  form  of  a 
half  circle,  with  a  radius  of  three  fourths  of  a  mile — 
Gulp's  Hill,  and  several  minor  eminences,  lying  in  the 
circumference;  and  the  extreme  right,  crossing  Rock 
Creek,  which  flows  at  the  base  of  these  heights,  rests 
upon  the  woody  summit  of  Wolf's  Hill.  The  rebel 
forces  occupied  a  series  of  heights  corresponding  to 


76  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

these,  with  an  intervening  belt  of  comparatively  level 
and  open  country  from  one  to  two  miles  in  width. 

The  forenoon  of  Thursday,  July  second,  passed  with 
no  demonstration  on  either  side.  The  hostile  forces  are 
rapidly  marshalling  on  the  opposite  ridges.  In  the 
Union  line  the  Twelfth  Corps  holds  the  eminences  near 
Rock  Creek,  on  the  right ;  next  is  the  First,  on  Gulp's 
Hill ;  then  the  Eleventh,  at  the  centre,  on  Cemetery  Hill, 
while  along  Cemetery  Ridge  are  successively  drawn  up 
the  Second,  Third,  and  Fifth,  with  the  Sixth  in  reserve 
near  the  Taneytown  road.  The  Twenty-seventh  Con 
necticut  was  stationed  about  a  mile  and  a  half  south  of 
Cemetery  Hill,  in  the  line  occupied  by  our  Second  Corps 
on  the  left  centre.  Here  the  regiment  remained  nearly 
all  day  in  quiet  preparation  for  the  conflict,  which 
threatened  at  any  moment  to  mar  that  peaceful  land 
scape  of  thrifty  farm-houses  and  waving  grain. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  the  Third  Corps,  on  the  left  of 
the  Second,  advanced  down  the  western  slope  of  Ceme 
tery  Ridge,  through  woods  and  an  extensive  wheat-field, 
almost  to  the  Emmettsburg  road,  which  winds  through 
the  narrow  valley,  separating  the  hostile  forces.  Just 
beyond,  Long-street  is  forming  his  brigades,  and  at  four 
o'clock,  preceded  by  a  brief  cannonade,  their  gray  ranks 
sweep  out  from,  woods  and  ravines,  and  once  more  is 
heard  that  strange,  wild  yell,  as  they  throw  themselves 
forward  upon  the  thin  line  of  the  Third  Corps.  But 
before  the  storm  of  grape  and  canister  from  Cemetery 
Ridge  they  quickly  fall  back  to  organize  anew  their 
broken  columns.  Meanwhile  reinforcements  from  the 
Fifth  and  Second  Corps  moved  rapidly  to  the  scene  of 
action.  Once  more  in  still  heavier  masses  the  enemy 
advanced  to  the  charge.  The  Twenty-seventh,  with 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  77 

the  rest  of  the  First  Division,  was  hurried  forward 
through  fields  and  by-roads,  to  support  the  faltering 
line.  As  the  regiment  enters  the  wheat-field,  already 
referred  to,  the  broken  remains  of  the  Third  Corps  are 
slowly  retiring  to  the  rear.  A  few  steps  more  bring  the 
men  under  the  full  sweep  of  the  enemy's  fire.  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Merwin  falls  while  leading  the  command 
with  his  accustomed  bravery.  Under  Major  Coburn, 
the  line  still  presses  forward  at  double-quick,  through 
the  wheat-field  and  woods  beyond,  driving  the  rebels  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  across  a  ravine,  which  on  the  further 
side  rises  into  a  precipitous  ledge.  The  men  with 
much  difficulty  clambered  up  the  rocky  steep,  but  as  they 
appeared  upon  the  crest  of  the  hill,  the  enemy,  drawn 
up  in  readiness  just  beyond,  within  pistol-range,  opened 
upon  them  a  withering  fire.  The  contest  at  this  point 
continued  for  some  time.  Planting  the  colors  upon  the 
top,  the  men  loaded  their  pieces  under  shelter  of  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  then,  rising  up,  delivered  their  fire. 
Meanwhile  the  troops  to  our  right  gave  way,  and,  taking 
advantage  of  the  exposed  position  of  the  right  flank  of 
our  brigade,  the  enemy  advanced  a  body  of  troops  in 
that  direction,  and  General  Brooke  at  length  ordered 
our  shattered  line  to  fall  back,  which  was  accomplished 
under  a  heavy  cross-fire. 

Thus  with  varying  success  the  battle  raged  from 
four  p.  M.  until  dark.  Now  the  feeble  line  of  the  Third 
Corps  trembles  before  the  fierce  onset  of  the  foe,  and  re 
tires,  contesting  the  ground  inch  by  inch ;  but  the  irre 
sistible  onslaught  of  reinforcements  soon  turns  the  tide. 
Again  the  rebels  push  back  the  Union  troops  almost  to 
the  original  lines  on  Cemetery  Ridge,  and  again  are 


78  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

themselves  repulsed  before  the  concentrated  fire  of  our 
artillery,  aiding  the  charge  of  a  brigade  of  infantry. 

The  conflict  on  the  left  wing  terminated  at  dark, 
leaving  the  enemy  in  possession  of  the  wheat-field.  No 
attack  had  yet  been  made  upon  other  parts  of  the  line, 
but,  as  the  day  closed,  a  division,  deploying  from  the 
edge  of  the  town,  made  a  brief  and  desperate,  but  fruit 
less,  assault  upon  the  batteries  posted  on  Cemetery  Hill. 
And  still  further  to  the  right,  the  enemy,  observing  that 
the  larger  part  of  the  forces  on  Gulp's  Hill  had  been 
drawn  oif  to  meet  pressing  emergencies  elsewhere, 
crossed  Rock  Creek,  and,  charging  up  the  woody  slope, 
secured  a  lodgement  for  the  night  in  the  unoccupied  por 
tion  of  the  works.  Such  was  the  general  result  of  the 
day's  fighting. 

The  Twenty-seventh  went  into  action  with  seventy- 
five  men,  all  that  could  be  mustered  for  duty  after  an 
active  service  of  not  quite  nine  months.  At  the  camps 
of  paroled  prisoners,  the  Richmond  voyagers  of  our 
regiment,  though  not  permitted  to  rejoin  the  command, 
yet  in  thought  followed  their  comrades  through  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  march  and  battle  which  attended  them. 
At  five  P.M.  that  little  band  of  seventy-five  men  formed 
for  the  charge  at  the  edge  of  the  wheat-field.  At  dark 
thirty-eight  were  numbered  among  the  casualties  :  eleven 
killed — among  them  Lieutenant-Colonel  Merwin,  and 
Captain  Jedediah  Chapman — twenty-three  wounded, 
and  four  missing.  One  of  the  latter,  when  Lee's  army 
retreated,  was  marched  by  his  captors  from  Gettysburg 
to  Staunton,  Virgini  .  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles, 
and  thence  transported  by  railroad  to  Richmond.  After 
a  six  weeks'  experience  on  Belle  Island,  he  was  paroled, 
and  returned  home  so  emaciated  and  worn  down  by 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  79 

hardship  as  to  be  almost  beyond  recognition  even  by 
members  of  his  own  company. 

At  the  close  of  the  action  in  front  of  the  left  wing, 
the  Twenty-seventh  was  assigned  a  new  position  in  the 
line  of  battle,  about  midway  on  the  ridge  between 
Cemetery  Hill  and  Round  Top.  The  regiment  re 
mained  in  this  vicinity  until  the  Second  Corps  started 
in  pursuit  of  Lee's  army,  three  days  later.  Early  the 
next  morning,  July  third,  the  men  were  roused  from 
sleep  by  a  furious  cannonade  from  batteries  posted  on 
Power's  Hill,  about  half  a  mile  to  the  rear.  These  dogs 
of  war  were  paying  their  morning  compliments  to  the 
rebels,  who  still  occupied  the  works  on  the  extreme 
right,  which  they  had  captured  the  previous  evening. 
For  an  hour  this  thunder-toned  reveille  awoke  the  rest 
ing  armies  to  the  still  fiercer  drama  of  the  last  battle 
day.  The  infantry  followed  up  this  fiery  prelude  with 
a  vigorous  attack  upon  the  rebel  vantage-ground,  the 
importance  of  which  seemed  fully  appreciated  by  both 
sides.  The  struggle  continued  with  unabated  resolution 
until  nine  o'clock,  when  the  Union  forces  succeeded  in 
dispossessing  the  enemy  of  this  to  them  valuable  point 
cFappui  for  future  operations. 

With  the  exception  of  a  severe  artillery  fire,  to  which 
General  Meade's  headquarters  were  subjected,  the  enemy 
attempted  nothing  further  during  the  remainder  of  the 
forenoon.  The  Twenty-seventh  was  busily  engaged  in 
throwing  up  intrenchments,  gathering  for  this  purpose 
rails  and  stones  from  neighboring  fences,  and,  in  the  ab 
sence  of  picks  and  shovels,  using  their  bayonets  and  tin 
plates  to  heap  up  the  earth.  In  his  morning  rounds, 
General  Hancock  visited  the  brigade,  and  as  he  stood 
near  by,  conversing  with  Major  Coburn,  our  acting  Brig- 


80  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

adier,  Colonel  Brooke,  called  the  General's  attention  to 
the  little  remnant  of  the  Twenty-seventh,  alluding,  in 
strong  terms  of  commendation,  to  the  conduct  of  the 
regiment  in  the  action  of  the  preceding  afternoon.  Turn 
ing  to  the  men,  General  Hancock  said  :  "  Stand  well  to 
your  duty  now,  and  in  a  few  days  you  will  carry  with 
you  to  your  homes  all  the  honors  of  this,  the  greatest 
battle  ever  fought  upon  the  continent." 

From  eleven  o'clock  until  one,  only  stifled  mutterings 
of  the  impatient  storm  disturbed  the  quiet  which  reigned 
along  the  lines.  The  rebels  were  silently  maturing  their 
plans  for  the  last  grand  charge,  upon  which  they  staked 
the  fate  of  the  invasion.  Those  were  hours  of  indescrib 
able  suspense  to  the  defenders  of  the  Union,  whether  or 
no  the  sun  would  set  upon  a  foe  elated  with  victory  and 
pressing  onward  to  new  conquests,  or  sullenly  retiring  in 
defeat.  At  one  o'clock  the  combat  began.  From  every 
commanding  eminence  in  their  concave  line,  the  rebel 
artillery,  numbering  more  than  a  hundred  guns,  opened 
a  terrific  cannonade,  probably  unsurpassed  in  violence 
during  the  whole  war.  For  more  than  an  hour  this  wild 
storm  of  shot  and  shell  rolls  over  the  Union  line,  from 
Round  Top  to  Rock  Creek.  The  infantry  are  partially 
sheltered  behind  intrenchments,  while  the  cannoniers 
stand  at  their  posts,  replying  occasionally  to  the  bom 
bardment,  but  reserving  their  fire  for  more  decisive  work, 
when  the  rebel  forces  advance  to  the  assault.  At  length 
the  cannonade  slackens,  to  give  way  to  the  next  act  in 
the  drama,  the  crisis  of  the  tragedy.  In  full  view  two 
heavy  lines  of  troops,  the  flower  of  the  rebel  army,  with 
skirmishers  in  front,  deploy  from  the  woods  and  ridges 
beyond  the  Emmettsburg  road.  With  the  steadiness  of 
hardened  veterans  thev  move  forward  to  the  attack. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  81 

From  Cemetery  Ridge  thousands  of  Union  troops  are 
watching  their  progress,  for  the  assault  is  directed  upon 
the  left  centre.  On  arriving  at  the  road,  the  enemy 
opened  a  heavy  musketry  fire,  and  dashed  rapidly  for 
ward  across  the  level  plain.  The  very  moment  they 
emerged  from  behind  Seminary  Heights,  the  Union  artil 
lery  met  them  with  shot  and  shell  and  solid  shot,  but 
now,  as  they  approach  within  easy  range,  their  ranks  are 
mercilessly  raked  with  a  tempest  of  canister.  Cemetery 
Hill  is  wreathed  with  flame  from  the  guns  of  thickly- 
massed  infantry,  and  the  fringe  of  fire  courses  along  the 
crest  of  the  ridge  for  two  miles,  as  far  as  the  rebel  attack 
extends.  Though  temporarily  checked,  one  division 
still  marches  on  with  desperate  energy  up  to  the  very 
works.  Only  a  weak  line  bars  their  progress,  but  ree'n- 
forcements  quickly  arrive  at  the  critical  point,  around 
which  the  contending  hosts  now  struggle,  in  one  of  the 
most  hotly-contested  encounters  of  the  battle.  For  a 
time  the  rebels  bravely  maintain  their  position,  but 
clouds  of  missiles  from  Cemetery  Hill  tear  into  their 
ranks,  while  infantry  crowd  them  vigorously  in  front  and 
flank.  At  length,  leaving  the  ground  thickly  strewn 
Avith  killed  and  wounded,  and  multitudes  as  prisoners  in 
the  hands  of  the  conquerors,  the  broken  remnants  roll 
back  in  wild  confusion,  and  disappear  behind  the  hills 
from  which  they  had  sallied  forth. 

This  last  charge  of  the  rebels  took  place  just  to  the 
right  of  the  position  held  by  the  Twenty-seventh,  which 
we  have  already  referred  to  as  being  half-way  between 
Round  Top  and  Cemetery  Hill.  From  the  relation  of 
the  ground  to  the  surrounding  high  land,  the  location  of 
our  brigade  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  weakest  in  the 
line,  and  General  Hancock  expressed  the  opinion  that 


82  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

here  the  enemy  would  make  his  attack.  Fortunately  it 
proved  otherwise,  although  for  a  time  such  a  movement 
seemed  imminent.  Near  the  close  of  the  action,  a  divis 
ion,  massed  in  column,  advanced  directly  upon  our  front, 
but  the  reserve  artillery  quickly  drove  them  back  before 
they  came  within  musketry  range.  The  favorable  ter 
mination  of  what  was  felt  to  be  the  last  assault  the  rebels 
would  make,  produced  a  profound  feeling  of  satisfaction. 
But  one  of  the  saddest  of  duties  remained  to  be  perform 
ed — to  bury  the  dead  and  gather  the  wounded  into  the 
hospitals.  This  work  occupied  the  men  during  July 
fourth.  On  that  day,  Lee's  army  withdrew  from  this 
scene  of  inglorious  defeat,  and  retired  in  a  southwesterly 
direction. 

In  the  afternoon  of  July  fifth,  the  war-worn  Twenty- 
seventh,  with  the  Second  Corps,  left  those  battle-scarred 
heights,  the  theatre  of  a  costly  but  substantial  triumph, 
Avhich  marks  the  turning-point  in  the  fortunes  of  the  re 
bellion.  For  the  next  few  days  the  march  was  directed 
toward  the  Potomac,  following  at  first  the  Taneytown 
road.  But  slow  progress  was  made,  in  consequence  of 
frequent  rains  and  the  thoroughly  exhausted  condition  of 
the  troops.  The  state  of  popular  feeling  along  the  route 
was  in  striking  contrast  with  the  dejected  aspect  of  every 
countenance  when  the  army  was  on  its  way  to  Gettys 
burg.  Now,  Frederick  City  put  on  its  most  smiling 
face.  Flags  were  flung  to  the  breeze,  and  the  people 
gave  an  enthusiastic  welcome  to  the  regiments  as  they 
passed  through  in  pursuit  of  Lee's  army.  The  route 
now  crossed  the  Blue  Ridge,  by  way  of  Crampton's 
Gap.  Here  the  severe  rains  had  gathered  a  considerable 
torrent,  several  feet  deep,  which  formed  the  pathway  of 
the  troops  for  nearly  two  miles.  The  Twenty-seventh 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  83 

was  once  more  in  the  vicinity  of  the  enemy,  who  had  re 
treated  down  the  western  slope  of  the  mountains,  and 
were  now  in  position  at  Williamsport,  on  the  Potomac, 
preparing  to  cross  into  Virginia.  The  sound  of  cannon 
in  that  direction  informed  us  that  they  were  but  a  short 
distance  to  the  front ;  and  while  on  the  field  of  Antietam, 
the  brigade  formed  in  line  of  battle,  as  a  precautionary 
measure.  The  next  day  the  rebel  cavalry  attacked  the 
skirmish  line,  but  quickly  fell  back  before  a  severe  shell 
ing.  In  anticipation  of  further  fighting,  the  men  spent 
two  nights  and  one  day  in  building  an  elaborate  line  of 
intrenchments  ;  but  it  proved  to  be  labor  lost,  as  the  reb 
els  retired,  on  the  night  of  the  fourteenth,  to  the  south 
bank  of  the  river.  Immediately  on  ascertaining  this 
fact,  the  Twenty-seventh,  with  the  brigade,  was  ordered 
down  to  Falling  Waters,  a  short  distance  below  Wil 
liamsport,  and  arrived  there  just  in  time  to  witness  the 
capture  of  the  enemy's  rear-guard,  more  than  a  thousand 
strong. 

The  invasion  was  now  at  an  end ;  and  as  the  last  rebel 
left  the  soil  of  Maryland,  the  campaign  of  the  Twenty- 
seventh  drew  near  to  its  close.  Leaving  Falling  Waters, 
the  regiment  accompanied  the  Second  Corps  down  the 
Potomac  to  Harper's  Ferry,  and  went  into  camp  at  Pleas 
ant  Valley,  about  two  miles  distant.  On  the  morning 
of  July  eighteenth  the  Twenty-seventh  ceased  its  con 
nection  with  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  In  announcing 
this  event,  Colonel  Brooke,  our  brigade  commander, 
issued  the  following  general  order  : 


84  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

"  HEADQUARTERS  FOURTH  BRIGADE,  FIRST  DIVISION,  ) 

SECOND  CORPS,  CAMP  IN  PLEASANT  VALLEY,  > 

MARYLAND,  July  17,  18G3.  ) 

"  GENERAL  ORDER — No.  9. 

"  The  term  of  service  of  the  Twenty-seventh  Connecti 
cut  Volunteers  having  nearly  expired,  it  has  been  re 
lieved  from  further  duty,  and  ordered  to  report  to  its 
place  of  enrolment. 

"  The  Colonel  commanding  the  brigade  desires,  in 
parting  with  the  officers  and  men  of  the  Twenty-seventli 
Connecticut,  to  convey  to  them  his  sincere  feelings  of 
regret  at  losing  their  services,  while  at  the  same  time  he 
thanks  them  for  the  obedience  and  faithfulness  which 
have  been  a  marked  feature  of  the  regiment. 

"  Knowing  it  intimately  for  so  many  months  of  active 
and  arduous  service — having  been  an  eye-witness  of 
its  many  deeds  of  gallantry,  and  of  the  noble  devotion 
displayed  by  it  on  many  a  memorable  day,  during  the 
time  in  which  he  has  had  the  honor  to  command  its  ser 
vices — he  feels  it  a  duty  he  owes,  not  only  to  the  living 
heroes,  but  to  the  memory  of  those  who  have  fallen  in 
the  field  in  battling  in  our  righteous  cause,  to  bear  testi 
mony  to  the  valor  and  gallantry  it  has  always  displayed. 

"  Side  by  side  with  the  veterans  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  it  has  fought,  and  by  the  gallantry  of  its  con 
duct  won  for  itself  an  enviable  name  and  reputation,  and 
which  may  well,  in  after  years,  cause  all  who  belong  to 
it  to  feel  a  pardonable  pride  in  having  it  to  say  that  they 
served  with  the  Twenty-seventh  Connecticut. 

"  By  order.  COLONEL  BKOOKE. 

u  CHARLES  P.  HATCH,  Lieutenant, 

"  Acting  Assistant  Adjutant-General." 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  85 

With  £lad  hearts  the  men  formed  in  line  at  an  early 
hour  and  took  the  cars  for  Baltimore,  after  a  parting 
salute  to  the  brigade,  as  it  marched  by  on  its  way  into 
Virginia.  On  the  twentieth,  the  detachments  of  paroled 
men  from  Annapolis  and  Camp  Convalescent  arrived  at 
Baltimore,  and  the  whole  regiment,  now  mustering  about 
half  the  original  number,  started  by  railroad  for  New- 
Haven.  Once  more  we  were  entertained  at  the  "Volun 
teer  Refreshment  Saloon,"  in  Philadelphia,  and,  after  a 
night's  bivouack  at  the  Battery,  in  New- York,  arrived 
at  the  "place  of  enrolment"  on  the  twenty-second  of 
July,  1863,  exactly  nine  months  from  the  date  of  depart 
ure  for  the  field.  We  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the 
hearty  enthusiasm  and  deep  feeling  of  the  reception 
which  followed.  That  "  glorious  welcome  home  "  will 
long  be  remembered  by  the  soldiers  of  the  Twenty- 
seventh.  Escorted  by  the  military  companies  of  the 
city  and  the  municipal  authorities,  the  regiment  marched 
from  the  cars  to  the  north  portico  of  the  State  House, 
while  "  Welcome  !"  pealed  from  the  ringing  bells,  thun 
dered  in  the  roar  of  cannon,  waved  from  every  flag-staif, 
and  shone  on  every  countenance  of  the  vast  multitude, 
gathered  from  all  parts  of  the  county,  and  thronging 
the  streets  and  public  square.  At  the  State  House,  after 
the  regiment  had  been  drawn  up  "  in  column  by  division," 
the  Mayor  presented  the  formal  welcome  of  the  city,  and 
was  succeeded  by  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon  in  a  brief  address,  clos 
ing  with  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving.  The  following  poem, 
written  by  Mrs.  William  Doty,  of  New-Haven,  and  ac 
companying  a  gift  of  laurel  wreaths  to  the  field-officers, 
was  then  read : 


THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 
A  TRIBUTE   OF  WELCOME 

TO    THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH    CONNECTICUT    VOLUNTEERS. 

WE'LL  fling  to  the  breeze  our  banner  bright, 
America's  emblem  of  freedom  and  right, 
And  rallying  round  the  standard  true, 
Shout  a  joyous  welcome,  brave  patriots,  to  you. 

Ye  went  forth  from  us,  a  loyal  band, 
Firm  on  the  side  of  right  to  stand  ; 
Ye  return  with  hearts  still  brave  and  true  ; 
Then  our  warmest  greeting  we  give  to  you. 

Ye  return,  but  our  tears  will  fall  as  ye  come, 
For  the  mournful  notes  of  the  muffled  drum 
Are  borne  on  the  breeze  over  mountain  and  wave, 
As  it  beats  the  dirge  by  your  comrades'  grave. 

With  the  order,  "  Forward  !"  ye  marched  proudly  on, 
And  your  colors  bright  to  the  front  were  borne  ; 
When  the  smoke  of  the  battle  had  cleared  away, 
Side  by  side  with  the  "  veterans  "  your  brave  boys  lay. 

Through  the  summer's  heat  and  winter's  cold 
At  your  post  ye  stood,  fearless  and  bold  ; 
And  when  on  the  field,  'mid  the  conflict  dire, 
Ye  did  not  "  quail  at  the  enemy's  fire." 

Oh  !  the  road  to  Richmond  hath  altars  bright, 
Where,  a  "  captive  band,"  ye  camped  at  night, 
And  "  Libby's  "  grim  walls  a  record  bears, 
Of  the  patriot's  song  and  the  hero's  prayers. 

Now  the  toil  is  over,  the  march  is  done  ; 
And  the  wreath  of  laurel,  ye've  bravely  won, 
We  offer  to  you,  and  our  welcome  it  breathes, 
For  our  prayers  were  twined  with  its  glossy  leaves. 

But  ye're  not  all  here,  and  we'll  look  in  vain 
For  the  smiles  that  will  greet  us  never  again  ; 
And  the  quivering  lip  and  tearful  eye 
Mutely  ask  you  where  our  treasures  lie. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  87 

Some  sleep  where  Virginia's  waters  flow, 
Murmuring  their  requiem  soft  and  low  ; 
Others  with  fairest  flowers  were  drest, 
And  close  by  the  old  homes  laid  to  rest. 

When  the  angel  of  peace,  with  brooding  wing, 
Shall  fly  o'er  our  land  and  its  anthem  sing, 
With  trembling  fingers  the  strings  she'll  sweep, 
As  she  nears  the  spot  where  our  loved  ones  sleep. 

Then  a  costly  crown  will  our  country  wear, 
And  bright  the  gems  that  shall  sparkle  there. 
She  shall  sit  a  queen,  peerless  and  free, 
And  the  graves  of  her  heroes  her  glory  be  ! 

Still  firmly  stand,  in  God  your  trust, 
Till  the  rebel  horde  shall  bite  the  dust, 
And  the  North  and  South  encircled  be 
With  the  bands  of  truth  and  liberty. 

Fight  on,  till  our  starry  flag  of  blue, 
Each  glistening  fold  to  its  purpose  true, 
Shall  wave  from  wild  Atlantic's  roar 
To  the  golden  strands  of  Pacific's  shore. 

At  the  conclusion  of  these  exercises  a  bountiful  colla 
tion  was  served  up,  after  which  the  men  separated,  to 
await  the  completion  of  the  papers  necessary  to  the  final 
muster  out  of  service,  which  took  place  July  twenty- 
seventh,  1863. 

Thus  terminated  the  eventful  campaign  of  the  Twenty- 
seventh  Connecticut  Volunteers.  During  this  brief  term 
of  nine  months,  the  regiment  performed  marches  in  Vir 
ginia,  Maryland,  and  Pennsylvania,  amounting  to  no  less 
than  five  hundred  miles,  and  participated  in  three  of 
the  great  battles  of  the  war — Fredericksburg,  Chancel- 
lorsville,  and  Gettysburg— losing  in  killed  and  wounded 
in  the  first,  about  one  third,  and  in  the  last,  one  half,  of 


THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

those  present  in  action.  Very  many  of  our  number,  on 
their  return,  reenlisted  in  other  organizations,  and  illus 
trated  on  new  fields  the  same  valor  which  bore  them  and 
their  comrades  up  the  fiery  slope  of  Fredericksburg, 
nerved  all  hearts  calmly  to  meet  disaster  in  the  wilder 
ness  of  Chancellorsville,  and  crowned  with  victory  the 
heights  of  Gettysburg. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  "•  89 


ij\r 


THE  necrology  of  the  Twenty-seventh,  daring  the 
whole  term  of  service,  includes  seventy-five  officers  and 
men,  and  embraces  much  that  was  noblest  in  the  regi 
ment.  Of  this  number  thirty-three  fell  amid  the  strife 
and  turmoil  of  battle ;  eighteen,  after  a  more  or  less 
lingering  period  of  patient  agony,  finally  succumbed  to 
their  wounds ;  and  twenty-four  others  slowly  yielded  to 
the  inroads  of  disease,  and  died  among  the  more  quiet 
scenes  of  the  hospital.  Were  it  possible,  we  would 
gladly  dwell  upon  each  individual  name,  and  gather  up 
those  qualities  by  which  each  is  remembered  among  his 
comrades.  But  after  all  that  might  be  said,  the  simple 
record  of  the  central  fact  in  their  history,  that  these 
men  fell  in  defence  of  the  most  righteous  cause  ever 
submitted  to  the  decision  of  the  sword,  is  far  more  im 
pressive  than  any  commemorative  words.  And  yet  there 
are  some  whose  marked  character  and  prominent  con 
nection  .  with  the  regiment  as  a  whole,  or  with  single 
companies,  seem  to  demand  more  than  a  passing  notice. 
Chief  among  these,  the  mind  and  heart  of  each  member 
of  the  regiment  will  at  once  recur  to  the  name  of 

LIEUT.-COL.  HENRY  C.  MERWIN, 

who   fell   in   the    battle   of    Gettysburg,    July  second, 
1863.     If  this  noble  spirit  must  leave  its  mortal  tene- 
4* 


00  «  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

ment  amid  the  wild  tumult  of  war,  how  appropriate  that 
it  should  be  when  the  black  cloud  of  disaster,  which  had 
so  long  hovered  over  the  cause  of  our  country,  was  just 
rolling  away,  and  already  revealed  its  silver  lining  of 
victory ! 

Colonel  Merwin  was  a  native  of  Brookfield,  Connecti 
cut,  where  he  was  born  September  seventeenth,  1839. 
He  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in  New-Haven,  and 
at  the  beginning  of  the  war  was  in  business  with  his 
father  and  brother.  He  early  manifested  a  fondness  for 
military  life,  to  which  the  subsequent  events  of  his  history 
proved  him  well  adapted.  When  the  first  gun  of  the 
war  sounded  from  the  rebel  batteries  at  Charleston,  it 
awoke  in  his  breast  a  determined  and  prompt  response. 
At  that  time  he  was  a  member  of  the  New-Haven  Grays, 
and  immediately  volunteered  with  that  corps  for  three 
months'  service  in  the  Second  Regiment,  holding  the 
position  of  sergeant.  It  will  be  remembered  that  that 
was  one  of  the  very  few  regiments  Avhich  returned  with 
credit  from  the  field  of  Bull  Run.  After  this  brief  cam 
paign  he  remained  at  home  for  a  season,  constrained  by 
considerations  of  filial  duty,  by  which  a  noble  nature 
like  his  is  ever  governed  until  yet  higher  obligations 
demand  attention.  The  armies  of  the  Union  were  being 
rapidly  filled  up,  and  at  length  the  Government  stopped 
recruiting,  while  the  nation  beheld  with  confidence  the 
vast  and  apparently  irresistible  preparations,  which  be 
tokened  an  easy  victory.  Under  these  circumstances  it 
was  not  strange  that  so  many,  like  Colonel  Merwin,  held 
back  by  peculiar  home  duties,  refrained  from  throwing 
themselves  into  the  struggle.  But  these  anticipations 
resulted  in  disappointment,  and  all  this  array  of  re 
sources  proved  a  disastrous  failure.  The  call  of  the 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  91 

country  was  now  heard  in  louder  and  more  imperative 
tones  than  ever  before,  and  appealed  to  a  far  wider  circle 
in  the  community.  Henry  0.  Merwin  responded  with  a 
calm,  but  earnest  alacrity,  as  is  ever  true  of  those  whose 
guide  is  duty.  His  deserved  and  unsought  popularity 
soon  gathered  to  his  banner  a  full  quota  of  men,  which 
was  designated  as  Company  A  of  the  Twenty-seventh. 
Subsequently,  at  the  organization  of  the  regiment,  he  was 
chosen  Lieutenant-Colonel  by  the  votes  of  his  fellow- 
officers.  From  this  point  his  history  is  identified  with 
that  of  the  regiment.  From  the  moment  of  departure 
for  the  field  to  the  time  of  his  death  in  that  terrible 
combat  of  July  second,  at  Gettysburg,  he  had  never 
been  relieved  from  duty,  except  as  the  casualties  of  war 
separated  him  from  his  command.  He  shared  the  for 
tunes  of  the  regiment  during  the  terrible  and  fruitless 
battle  of  Fredericksburg,  and  met  with  undaunted 
courage  the  sudden  shock  of  disaster  in  the  thickets  of 
Chancellorsville.  He  visited  Richmond  as  a  prisoner 
of  war,  and  on  being  exchanged  at  once  returned  to  the 
regiment,  to  the  command  of  which  he  was  now  called. 
Along  the  weary  march  to  Gettysburg  he  inspired  the 
men  with  his  own  indomitable  spirit,  and  on  that  fated 
wheat-field,  where  the  missiles  of  the  enemy,  as  it  were, 
mowed  down  the  waving  grain,  he  fell,  mortally 
wounded,  breathing  out  those  words  of  noble  self- 
forgetfulness,  "  My  poor  regiment  is  suffering  fearfully." 
Without  disparagement  to  any,  it  may  truly  be  said 
that  no  officer  in  the  regiment  attracted  to  himself  such 
universal  and  unvarying  respect,  confidence,  and  affection 
among  the  men  of  his  command.  Nor  was  this  strange 
in  view  of  the  remarkable  and  harmonious  combination 
of  noble  qualities  in  his  character,  No  pride  of  position 


92  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

ever  marred  the  beautiful  consistency  of  his  life,  and 
yet  there  was  a  natural  dignity  which  forbade  undue 
familiarity.  He  felt  deeply  the  responsibility  of  his  re 
lation  to  the  regiment,  and  this  o'ermastering  principle 
swallowed  up  every  consideration  of  self-interest.  Duty 
was  evidently  the  supreme  motive  of  his  life,  and  intent 
upon  the  performance  of  his  own,  he  expected  and  re 
quired  equal  faithfulness  on  the  part  of  others.  He  was 
quick  of  discernment,  and  rapid  in  execution,  but  no 
harshness  ever  dimmed  the  transparent  kindness  of  his 
demeanor.  His  genial  countenance  and  words  of  sym 
pathy  and  encouragement  often  cheered  the  loneliness 
of  the  hospital.  He  thoroughly  appreciated  the  hard 
ships  and  trials  peculiar  to  the  private  soldier,  and  at 
all  times  endeavored  to  sustain  and  inspirit  his  weary 
energies.  All  these  more  amiable  qualities  were  sup 
plemented  by  a  manly  independence  and  decision,  which 
made  him  always  jealous  for  the  rights  of  his  men.  On 
that  trying  march  to  Gettysburg,  no  arrogance  and 
severity  of  superior  officers  ever  deterred  him  from  a 
gentlemanly,  but  bold  and  firm,  maintenance  of  the 
rights  and  interests  of  the  regiment.  He  at  once  se 
cured  the  respect,  and  soon  the  high  regard  of  Colonel 
Brooke,  commanding  the  brigade,  who  felt  most  keenly 
the  loss  of  Colonel  Merwin,  and,  on  hearing  that  he  was 
wounded,  gave  orders  that  every  thing  possible  should 
be  done  for  his  welfare. 

But  none  can  do  justice  to  such  a  character.  In  his 
death  the  Twenty-seventh  laid  its  costliest  sacrifice  upon 
the  altar  of  our  country. 

"  He  had  kept 
The  brightness  of  his  soul,  and  thus  men  o'er  him  wept." 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS. 


ADDISOX  C.  TAYLOR, 
CAPTAIN     OF     COMPANY     C. 

THIS  gallant  officer  fell  severely  wounded  in  the 
engagement  at  Fredericksburg,  December  thirteenth, 
1862,  and  died  at  his  home  in  New-Haven,  March  thir 
teenth,  1863.  He  was  born  October  twenty-eighth, 
1841,  in  Wellington,  Lorraine  county,  Ohio.  His  par 
ents  were  natives  of  Connecticut,  which  State  became 
his  home  when  he  was  about  twelve  years  of  age.  For 
several  years  he  was  a  pupil  in  the  Collegiate  and  Com 
mercial  Institute  of  New-Haven,  and  subsequently  a 
teacher,  and  also  the  military  instructor  in  that  school. 
The  outbreak  of  the  rebellion  in  1861  found  him  per 
forming  the  duties  of  this  position.  Though  feeling 
that  his  relations  and  duties  to  others  did  not  permit 


94  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

him  at  that  time  to  enter  the  active  military  service  of 
the  country,  yet  he  took  an  earnest  and  enthusiastic 
part  in  the  stirring  scenes  of  that  period.  Troops  were 
to  be  raised  and  prepared  for  the  field  with  the  utmost 
dispatch.  How  vividly  memory  recalls  the  experiences 
of  those  days,  then  so  strange  in  our  national  history, 
when  men  were  gathering  from  all  quarters  for  the 
nation's  defence,  and  our  streets  resounded  with  the 
drum  and  fife,  and  the  public  square  was  alive  with 
squads  and  companies  moving  to  and  fro  in  the  mazes 
of  military  evolutions !  Captain  Taylor's  zeal  and  mili 
tary  knowledge  found  an  ample  sphere  for  exercise  at 
this  important  crisis,  and  truly  most  efficient  service  did 
he  render.  It  should  be  particularly  mentioned,  that  he 
drilled  the  company  of  Captain,  now  Brevet  Major-Gen 
eral,  Joseph  R.  Hawley,  then  of  the  First  Connecticut 
Regiment  of  three  months'  volunteers.  Brevet  Brigadier- 
General  Edward  W.  Whittaker,  the  adventurous  cavalry 
leader,  was  also  at  that  time  a  member  of  this  company. 
So  successfully  did  Captain  Taylor  fulfil  these  duties 
that  Captain  Hawley  offered  him  the  most  flattering  in 
ducements  if  he  would  consent  to  accompany  the  regi 
ment;  but  the  time  had  not  arrived  when  he  was  to 
give  even  life  itself  for  his  country.  It  came  when  the 
battle  summer  of  1862  convinced  the  nation  that  this 
was  no  ordinary  struggle,  and  brought  each  man  face  to 
face  with  the  question  of  his  own  individual  duty.  At 
this  juncture  the  call  was  issued  for  volunteers  for  nine 
months'  service ;  and  Captain  Taylor,  with  his  accus 
tomed  ardor,  immediately  entered  upon  the  work  of 
recruiting  the  "Monitors  "  for  the  Twenty-seventh  Regi 
ment,  and  soon  assembled  about  him  a  very  superior 
body  of  men,  to  whom  his  military  knowledge  and  ex- 


CONNECTICUT    VOLUNTEERS.  95 

perience  were  of  very  great  advantage.  His  was  the 
color  company,  and  at  its  head  he  moved  on  that  day 
of  fearful  carnage,  the  memorable  thirteenth  of  De 
cember,  1862,  when  he  received  the  wound  which  re 
sulted  in  death,  after  three  months  of  patient  suffering. 

Did  space  allow,  we  might  appropriately  introduce  at 
this  point  the  singularly  unanimous  testimony  of  those 
who  knew  him  best,  to  the  self-reliance  which  he  mani 
fested  from  his  earliest  years ;  to  the  thorough,  unosten 
tatious  sincerity,  purity,  and  conscientiousness  of  his 
life ;  to  the  high  sense  of  duty  which  impelled  him  to 
the  field,  and  animated  him  in  every  act;  and,  more 
than  all  this,  to  the  Christian  principles  which  formed 
the  basis  of  his  symmetrical  character. 

"  The  light  of  his  young  life  went  down, 

As  sinks  behind  the  hill 
The  glory  of  a  setting  star — 

Clear,  suddenly,  and  still. 
The  blessing  of  his  quiet  life 

Was  in  his  every  look. 
We  read  his  face  as  one  that  reads 

A  true  and  holy  book." 


96 


THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 


JEDEDIAH    CHAPMAN,   JR., 
CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY  II. 

DEATH  singled  out  another  shining  mark  when  Cap 
tain  Chapman  fell  in  the  fore-front  of  battle,  on  the  same 
afternoon  that  beheld  the  close  of  Colonel  Mer  win's  life. 
Two  congenial  spirits  in  nobility  and  worth  together 
passed  to  the  land  of  immortality  on  that  day  of  death's 
high  carnival. 

Jedediah  Chapman,  Jr.,  was  born  in  New-Haven, 
November  twenty-first,  1839.  Like  Colonel  Merwin, 
he  was  a  member  of  the  New-Haven  Grays  at  the  open 
ing  of  the  war,  and  accompanied  them  to  the  field  as  a 
private  in  the  three  months'  service.  When  the  Twenty- 
seventh  was  being  recruited  under  the  call  for  nine 
months'  troops,  he  took  hold  of  the  work  with  vigor, 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  97 

and  was  in  great  part  instrumental  in  raising  Company 
H,  of  which  he  was  chosen  First  Lieutenant.  During 
more  than  one  third  of  the  campaign  he  had  command  of 
the  company,  and  to  his  exertions  and  military  ex 
perience  its  efficiency  was  largely  due.  Amid  the  ter 
rors  of  that  disastrous  day  at  Fredericksburg,  no  one 
acquitted  himself  with  greater  bravery  and  coolness  than 
Lieutenant  Chapman.  In  consequence  of  protracted 
sickness  during  the  spring  of  1863,  he  did  not  partici 
pate  in  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  and  thus  escaped 
the  fate  of  the  regiment.  But  it  was  a  great  disappoint 
ment  to  him  not  to  be  with  his  men,  and  share  with 
them  the  vicissitudes  of  the  campaign.  By  reason  of  the 
disaster  to  the  Twenty-seventh  in  that  battle,  only  two 
companies  of  the  regiment  remained  in  the  field,  with  a 
few  remnants  of  those  which  were  captured.  These 
scattering  portions  were  formed  into  one  company,  and 
Lieutenant  Chapman  was  placed  in  command.  His 
peculiar  qualifications  of  discipline  and  character  con 
tributed  much  to  their  unity  and  effectiveness  during 
the  succeeding  campaign  of  Gettysburg ;  and  at  their 
head  he  fell  on  the  second  of  July,  1863.  His  commis 
sion  as  Captain  of  Company  H,  dated  May  thirteenth, 
1863,  had  been  already  issued  and  forwarded;  but  he 
did  not  live  to  know  of  this  well-deserved  honor. 

Much  that  has  already  been  said  of  Colonel  Merwin 
might,  with  equal  propriety,  be  applied  to  Captain 
Chapman.  He  was  an  officer  well  known,  and  highly 
esteemed,  not  only  in  his  own  company,  but  throughout 
the  regiment.  He  possessed  in  a  peculiar  degree  all  the 
elements  which  constitute  an  efficient,  and  yet  popular, 
commander.  In  all  his  relations,  he  manifested  a  genial 
frankness  of  manner,  a  conscientiousness  of  purpose,  and 


98  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

keen  sense  of  justice,  which  at  once  gained  universal 
confidence  and  regard.  He  was  one  of  the  most  unas 
suming  of  men,  and  yet  in  that  soul  burned  a  depth  of 
devotion  to  duty,  and  a  power  of  noble  action,  which 
seemed  to  require  the  stern,  trying  scenes  of  war  to 
bring  them  forth  in  their  original  strength  and  glory. 
So  long  as  the  campaign  of  the  Twenty-seventh  lives  in 
the  memory  of  those  who  participated  in  it,  so  long 
will  the  members  of  Company  H  cherish  the  name  and 
reputation  of  their  beloved  commander,  Jedediah  Chap 
man. 


Let  us  now  turn  to  the  long  catalogue  of  enlisted 
men,  whose  names  appear  in  the  necrology  of  the  regi 
ment.  History  can  never  do  justice  to  the  grandeur 
and  far-reaching  importance  of  the  cause  to  which  they 
gave  the  testimony  of  their  lives,  nor  can  it  do  justice  to 
the  nobility  and  value  of  the  sacrifice.  It  is  not  neces 
sary  to  repeat  in  this  place  the  names  of  these  worthy 
men ;  but  we  will  call  to  mind  a  few  representatives  of 
their  number.  There  was  Orderly-Sergeant  Richard  H. 
Fowler,  of  Company  A,  who  died  of  wounds  received 
at  Fredericksburg.  He  was  a  native  of  Guilford,  and 
one  of  a  family  whose  record  for  active  patriotism  and 
sublimity  of  sacrifice  has  few,  if  any,  parallels  during 
the  whole  war.  Corporal  William  A.  Goodwin  and 
Private  Augustus  B.  Fairchild  likewise  fell  at  Freder 
icksburg.  To  the  efficiency  and  worth  of  them  all,  the 
officers  of  the  company  bear  willing  testimony.  Com 
panies  C,  D,  E,  and  F,  also  suffered  severely  in  the  loss 
of  faithful  and  tried  soldiers.  The  battle  of  Freder 
icksburg  struck  from  the  roll  of  Company  H  some  of  its 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  99 

most  valued  members.  Among  these  were  Orderly- 
Sergeant  Thomas  E.  Barrett,  and  Corporals  George  H. 
Mimmac  and  Frank  E.  Ailing.  Sergeant  Barrett  was 
a  man  of  very  superior  character  and  education.  Pre 
vious  to  his  enlistment  he  had  been  a  much-esteemed 
teacher  at  the  Eaton  Public  School  in  New-Haven. 
The  pleasant  duties  and  associations  of  this  position, 
and  all  its  prospects  of  usefulness,  he  yielded  up  to 
enter  the  service  of  the  country.  Few  made  greater 
sacrifices,  or  made  them  more  cheerfully,  than  he,  in 
obedience  to  a  purely  unselfish  sense  of  duty.  He 
sought  and  expected  no  office,  and  only  at  the  earnest 
solicitation  of  his  comrades  consented  to  accept  the 
post  of  First  Sergeant,  and  certainly  no  company  ever 
had  a  more  faithful  and  conscientious  officer.  He  was 
a  noble  Christian  soldier  ;  a  man  whom  society  could  ill 
afford  to  lose.  But  he  has  left  behind  him  an  example 
which  should  be  carefully  cherished  and  regarded.  The 
sacrifice  of  such  a  man  is  of  no  ordinary  value,  and 
gives  unusual  significance  to  the  struggle  through  which 
the  nation  has  passed.  Corporals  Mimmac  and  Ailing 
possessed  very  similar  elements  of  character.  The  latter 
was  a  member  of  Yale  College  at  the  time  he  enlisted, 
and  left  the  congenial  pursuits  of  a  student's  life  to  re 
spond  to  what  he  regarded  the  call  of  duty.  Such  were 
some  of  the  men  the  ranks  of  the  Twenty-seventh  con 
tributed  to  that  roll  of  honored  names,  whose  heroism 
and  self-sacrifice  will  grow  brighter  and  brighter,  as 
the  progress  of  years  reveals,  in  all  their  meaning  and 
influence,  the  events  of  the  war  for  Liberty  and  Union. 


100  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 


EECOED    OF    CASUALTIES. 


FIELD  AND  STAFF. 

KILLED. 

At  Gettysburg,  July  2,  1863. 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Henry  C.  Merwin. 

WOUNDED. 

At  Fredericksburg,  December  13,  1862. 
Chaplain  John  W.  Leek. 

At  Gettysburg. 
Adjutant  George  F.  Peterson. 


COMPANY  A. 

KILLED. 

At  Fredericksburg . 

Corporal  "William  A.  Goodwin,  Jr. 
Private  Augustus  B.  Fairchild. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS. 
WOUNDED. 

At  Fredericksburg . 

First  Sergeant  Richard  H.  Fowler. 
Sergeant  Nelson  S.  Wilmot. 
Sergeant  James  B.  Blair. 
Corporal  William  H.  Cornwall. 
Private  Thomas  H.  Wallace. 

DIED    OF    WOUNDS. 

First  Sergeant  Richard  H.  Fowler,  December  17th, 
1862,  at  camp  near  Falmouth. 

DIED    OF   DISEASE. 

Private  Henry  B.  Hilliard,  December  17th,  1862,  at  Ham 
mond  General  Hospital,  Maryland. 

Private  Edward  C.  Hazard,  October  16th,  1862,  at  Camp 
Terry,  New-Haven. 

Private  Frank  A.  Johnson,  December  14th,  1862,  at  camp 
near  Falmouth. 

Private  Treat  A.  Marks,  December  25th,  1862,  at  camp 
near  Falmouth. 

Private  Joseph  B.  Thompson,  February  7th,  1863,  at 
camp  near  Falmouth. 

Private  Elbert  W.  Ball,  August  5th,  1863,  at  New- 
Haven. 


COMPANY  B. 

WOUNDED. 

At  Fredericksburcf. 

Corporal  George  E.  Wilford. 
Private  Timothy  Callahan. 


102  'TIIE  'TWENTY-SEVENTH 

Private  Joseph  Bennett. 
Patrick  Condon. 
Josiah  Johnson. 
Michael  Taylor. 
L.  Mortimer  Willis. 
Edwin  L.  Wilford. 

At  Gettysburg. 
Private  Charles  Paxden. 

DIED    OF    WOUNDS. 

Corporal  George  E.  Wilford,  January  8th,  1863. 
Private  Joseph  Bennett,  December  25th,  1862. 

Patrick  Condon,  December  28th,  1862,  in  hospi 
tal  at  Annapolis. 

Josiah  Johnson,  January  5th,  1863. 

DIED    OF   DISEASE. 

Private  George  C.  Baldwin,  January  25th,  1863,  at  camp 
near  Falmouth. 

Private  Edward  B.  Dolph,  March  20th,  1863,  at  camp 
near  Falmouth. 

Private  Lewis  M.  Tucker,  October  10th,  1862,  at  Bran- 
ford,  Connecticut. 

Second  Lieutenant  Edmund  B.  Cross,  August  6th,  1863, 
at  New-Haven. 


COMPANY  C. 

KILLED. 

At  Fredericksburg . 
Private  Charles  Michael. 
Wilbur  Nash. 
Joel  C.  Parmelee. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  103 

At  Chancellor sville. 
Private  Samuel  B.  Clark. 

At   Gettysburg. 

Corporal  Charles  E.  Cornwall. 
Color-Corporal  Joseph  Stevens. 

WOUNDED. 
At  Fredericksburg. 

Captain  Addison  C.  Taylor. 
Second  Lieutenant  Charles  B.  Brooks. 
Sergeant  Henry  M.  Stanton. 
Color-Corporal  Henry  E.  Wing. 
Color-Corporal  James  L.  Ambler. 
Color-Corporal  Sydney  R.  Thompson. 
Private  Hector  Murphy. 

John  Platt. 

George  W.  Hine. 

At  Chancellor  sville. 
Sergeant  Charles  S.  Beatty. 

At  Gettysburg. 

Color-Corporal  William  S.  Bodwell. 
Corporal  Gilbert  A.  W.  Ford. 

DIED    OP    WOUNDS. 

Captain  Addison  C.  Taylor,  March  13th,  1863,  at  New- 
Haven,  Connecticut. 

Color-Corporal  William  L.  Bodwell,  July  5th,  1863,  at 
Gettysburg. 

Color-Corporal  Sydney  E.  Thompson,  December  30th, 
1862. 


104  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

DIED    OF    DISEASE. 

Color-Corporal  Sydney  II.  Plumb,  April  18th,  1863,  at 
camp  near  Falmouth. 

Private  John  G.  Clark,  December  30th,  1862,  in  General 
Hospital,  Washington. 

Private  Harvey  S.  Wei  ton,  July  14th,  1863,  near  Har 
per's  Ferry,  Virginia. 


COMPANY  D. 

KILLED. 

At  Fredericksburg. 

Sergeant  Garry  B.  Sperry. 
Private  William  Renter. 
Gilbert  Keller. 

At  Gettysburg. 

Private  William  O.  Scott. 

William  E.  Wilson. 
Patrick  Dunn. 
Marcus  O.  Judson. 
John  Goodwin. 

WOUNDED. 

At  Frederidtsburg . 

First  Lieutenant  Frank  H.  Smith. 
Second  Lieutenant  Ellsworth  A.  Smith. 
Sergeant  John  A.  Munson. 

Henry  B.  Hill. 

Benjamin  H.  Cobb. 

George  B.  Lego. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  105 

Corporal  Andrew  J.  Barnard. 
Private  James  Johnson. 

Alpheus  D.  Cobb. 

Thomas  M.  Kilcullen. 

Loren  M.  Higgins. 

John  Mitchell. 

At  Chancellorsville. 
Sergeant  Fitch  M.  Parker. 

At  Gettysburg. 

Captain  Cornelius  J.  Dubois. 
First  Sergeant  George  T.  Swank. 
Private  Dwight  T.  Brockett. 

Thomas  M.  Kilcullen. 

William  Lee. 

Charles  H.  Nichols. 

John  Phillips. 

Richard  A.  Tenner. 

John  E.  Williamson, 

John  Hogan. 

Thomas  G.  Yale. 

DIED    OF    WOUNDS. 

Sergeant  Henry  B.  Hill,  January  14th,  1863. 

Benjamin  H.  Cobb,  January  19th,  1863. 
Private  Loren  M.  Higgins,  February  1st,  1863. 
John  Mitchell,  December  15th,  1862. 
Thomas   G.   Yale,   August    26th,    1863,   Phila 
delphia. 

DIED    OF   DISEASE. 

Private  John  W.  Lounsbury,  December  8th,  1862. 

5 


106  THE    TWENTY^-SEVENTII 

Private  William  Goodwill,  December  10th,  1862,  at 
College  Hospital,  Georgetown,  D.  C. 

Spencer  Bronson. 

Thomas  M.  Kilcullen,  September  10th,  1863,  in 
Richmond,  Virginia. 


COMPANY  E. 

KILLED. 

At  FredericJcsburfj. 

Corporal  James  G.  Clinton. 
Private  George  Brown. 

Andrew  B.  Castle. 

Edward  Thompson. 

At  Chancellor sv  ilk. 
Private  William  Burke. 

WOUNDED. 
At  Fredericksburg . 

Sergeant  John  D.  Sherwood. 
Private  Timothy  Carroll. 
Seth  Woodward. 

At   Chancellor sville. 

Corporal  Frederick  G.  Bell. 
Private  Edward  A.  Dunning. 
David  S.  Rockwell. 

At   Gettysburg. 
Private  Charles  II.  Henderson . 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  107 


DIED    OF   DISEASE. 

Private  Jacob  Schneider,  January  19th,  1863,  at  camp 
near  Falmouth. 


COMPANY  F. 

KILLED. 

At  Gettysburg. 

Private  Michael  Confrey. 
^Edward  B.  Farr. 

WOUNDED. 

At  Fredericksburg. 

First  Lieutenant  DeWitt  C.  Sprague, 
•Sergeant  Henry  D.  Russell. 
.Corporal  Thomas  Ward. 

.  James  B.  Munson. 

Elias  C.  Mix,  Jr. 
Private  John  Crosby. 

•  John  A.  Hopkins. 
-Charles  Higgins. 
.William  A.  Kelley. 
•Dennis  W.  Tucker. 

•  James  Williamson. 
.  Henry  C.  Wakelee. 

•  Henry  A.  Kelsey. 

•  Leonard  Russell. 

•  William  F.  Tuttle. 
"  Jairus  C.  Eddy. 

'  Samuel  Fowler,  2d. 


108  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

At   Chancellor  smile. 

-  Sergeant  Thomas  Ward. 
.Private  William  Blakcslce. 

t  John  Crosby. 

At   Gettysburg. 

-  Captain  Joseph  R.  Bradley. 

,  First  Lieutenant  Charles  P.  Prince. 
^   Sergeant  Thomas  Ward. 
.  Corporal  Henry  W.  Clark. 

-  Private  Edward  B.  Fowler. 

.Daniel  O'Neal. 

DIED    OF   WOUNDS. 

At  Fredericltsburcj. 

Sergeant  Henry  D.  Russell,  January  4th,  1863,  in  hos 
pital,  Washington. 

Private  Jairus  C.  Eddy,  December  20th,  at  camp  near 
Falmouth. 

Private  Samuel  Fowler,  2d,  January  9th,  in  hospital, 
Washington. 

DIED    OF    DISEASE. 

Private  John  S.  Robinson,  June  18th,  1863,  in  Balti 
more. 

COMPANY  G. 

WOUNDED. 

At  Fredericksburg. 
Sergeant  Casper  S.  Glad  win. 
.  Corporal  Andrew  J.  Boardman,  Jr. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  109 

Private  Hosea  B.  Button. 
Henry  H.  Onthrup. 

At  Gettysburg. 
Corporal  "William  H.  Stannis. 
Private  John  Griffin. 

•  Martin  Merrill. 

DIED    OF   DISEASE. 

Nelson  N.  Beecher,  June  24th,  1863. 


COMPANY  H. 

KILLED. 

At  Fredericksburg. 
First  Sergeant  Thomas  E.  Barrett. 
Corporal  Frank  E.  Ailing. 

George  I.  Judson. 

George  H.  Mimmac. 

At  Chancellor sville. 
Private  John  Rawson. 

At  Gettysburg. 
Captain  Jedediah  Chapman. 

WOUNDED. 
At  FredericJcsburg. 

Sergeant  Wareham  A.  Morse. 

Frederick  E.  Munson. 

William  H.  Alden. 
Private  Joseph  A.  Rogers. 
Leicester  J.  SaAvyer. 


110  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

Private  Hezekiah  P.  Smith. 
Byron  Ure. 
Frank  L.  Merwin. 

At  Chancellor  sville. 
Private  Silas  Benham. 

James  Braddock. 

DIED    OF   DISEASE. 

Private   Charles  L.  Ailing,  March  22d,  1863,  at  camp 

near  Falmouth. 
Private  Hezekiah   P.  Smith,    January   18th,    1863,   at 

camp  near  Falmouth. 


COMPANY  I. 

KILLED. 

At  Fredericksl)ury. 
Corporal  Corydon  N.  Thomas. 

WOUNDED. 

At  Fredericksburg. 
First  Lieutenant  Samuel  M.  Smith, 
Color-Sergeant  James  Brand. 
Corporal  Henry  B.  Wilcox. 
William  G.  Hill. 
Judson  II.  Dowd. 
Private  Francis  E.  Beach. 
Dennis  Crummy. 
Henry  D.  Calkins. 
Alvah  R.  Doane. 
Samuel  J.  Field. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  Ill 

Private  George  S.  Hill. 

Thomas  Pentelow. 
Julian  F.  Watrous. 

At   Chancellor sville. 
Private  George  W.  Beck  with. 

DIED    OF   WOUNDS. 

Corporal  William  G.  Hill,  January  6th,  1863,  in  Wash 
ington. 

Private  Rufus  S.  Shelley,  December  29th,  1862,  in  hos 
pital,  at  Georgetown,  D.  C.^, 

DIED    OF    DISEASE. 

Private  Joseph  Hull,  JMarch    2d,   1863,   at  camp   near 

Falmouth. 
Private  George  S.  Hill. 

William  M.  Phile,  April  20th,  1863. 


COMPANY  K. 


KILLED. 

At  Frederickslurf/. 

Captain  Bernard  E.  Schvveizer. 
Corporal  Albert  Cabanis. 


112  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

WOUNDED. 

At  Fredericksburg. 
•  Corporal  Augustus  Vogt. 
-Private  John  Huber. 

•  George  Gunther. 

•  Ernst  Klein. 

.  Ernst  Reuthe. 
.  John  Schaffner. 

At  Chancettorsvttle. 

f  Private  Michael  Hauserman. 

•  George  Eckle. 

DIED    OF   DISEASE. 

Private  William  F.Bernharclt,  June  15th, 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS. 


113 


Tabular  Statement  of  Casualties  during  the  Nine  Months'  Campaign, 


Ul 


SI   Q  £H 
c  *r? 


Field  and  Staff, 

Co.  A, 

Co.  B,   

Co.  C, 

Co.  D, 

Co.  E, 

Co.  F, 

Co.  G, 

Co.  II, 

Co.  I, 

Co.  K,.. 


Total, I 


19  I    3    111 


ia 


86 


DIED. 


13  |  25 


T3      •  1        -i 

§£.§  i  §2  & 

!li!!?I 


16 


24  '    3    i280i4 


Killed  and  wounded  at  Fredericksburg, 105 

Killed  and  wounded  at  Chancellorsville, 16 

Killed  and  wounded  at  Gettysburg, 36 

Total  killed  and  wounded, 157 

Deaths  in  battle  and  by  wounds  at  Fredericksburg, 35 

Deaths  in  battle  and  by  wounds  at  Chancellorsville, 3 

Deaths  in  battle  and  by  wounds  at  Gettysburg, 13 

Total  deaths  by  battle, 51 

Deaths  by  disease, 24 

Total  deaths  by  battle  and  disease, 75 

Total  killed,  wounded,  and  deaths  from  disease, 181 

Taken  prisoners, 287 


Total  casualties, 468 


114  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 


ARMY  COMMANDERS  OF  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH. 


Army  of  the  Potomac. 

MAJOR-GENERAL  AMBROSE  E.  BURNSIDE, 
MAJOR-GENERAL  JOSEPH  HOOKER, 
MAJOR-GENERAL  GEORGE  G.  MEADE. 

Right   Grand  Division. 
MAJOR-GENERAL  EDWIN  V.  SUMNER. 


Second  Army   Corps. 

MAJOR-GENERAL  DARIUS  N".  Coucn, 
MAJOR-GENERAL  WINFIELD  S.  HANCOCK. 


First  Division. 

MAJOR-GENERAL  WINFIELD  S.  HANCOCK, 
MAJOR-GENERAL  JOHN  C.  CALDWELL. 


Third  Brigade. 
BRIGADIER-GENERAL  SAMUEL  R.  ZOOK, 


Fourth  Brigade. 
BRIGADIER-GENERAL  JOHN  R.  BROOKE. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS. 


115 


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118  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 


COLOR-BEARERS. 

SERGEANTS. 

James  Brand. 
Amos  N".  Benton. 

By  Promotion. 
John  F.  Sanford. 

COLOR-GUARD. 

CORPORALS. 

James  L.  Ambler. 
John  M.  Bristol. 
James  W.  Baird. 
Joseph  R.  Clark. 
Joseph  B.  De  Witt. 
John  F.  Sanford. 
Sydney  R.  Thompson. 
Henry  E.  Wing. 

J3y  Promotion. 

William  L.  Bod  well. 
Sydney  H.  Plumb. 
Joseph  Stevens. 
George  W.  Tibbals. 
George  E.  Tread  well. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  119 


PEOMOTIONS 

AMONG      THE      ENLISTED      MEN. 

COMPANY  A. 

Third  Sergeant  Adelbert  P.  Hanson  to  be  First  Sergeant 

and  Second  Lieutenant. 

Corporal  Henry  C.  Shelton  to  be  First  Sergeant. 
Corporal  George  Ashdown  to  be  Sergeant. 
Privates  William  H.  Cornwall, 

Miles  A.  Goodrich, 

Samuel  J.  Ililliarcl, 

Sherwood  S.  Thompson, 

Samuel  L.  Stevens,  to  be  Corporals. 

COMPANY  B. 

Privates  Walter  E.  Fowler, 
Henry  W.  Hubbard, 
John  K.  Wilder,  to  be  Corporals. 

COMPANY  C. 

Corporal  Charles  S.  Beatty  to  be  Sergeant. 
Private  James  Mulligan  to  be  Corporal. 


120  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH 

COMPANY  D. 

First  Sergeant  Sewell  A.  Dodge  to  be  Second  Lieutenant. 

Fifth  Sergeant  George  B.  Lego  to  be  Fourth  Sergeant. 

Corporal  Fitch  M.  Parker  to  be  Fifth  Sergeant. 

Augustus  T.  Freed  to  be  Third  Sergeant, 
George  T.  Swank  to  be  First  Sergeant. 

Private  William  E.  Wilson  to  be  Corporal. 


COMPANY  E. 

Privates  George  Clerason, 

Isaac  Bradley,  to  be  Corporals. 


COMPANY  F. 

Second  Sergeant  Daniel  Worcester  to  be  Second  Lieu 
tenant. 

Fifth  Sergeant  Stiles  L.  Beech  to  be  Fourth  Sergeant. 
Corporal  Thomas  Ward  to  be  Fifth  Sergeant. 
Private  Moses  Thomas  to  be  Corporal. 


COMPANY  H. 

Private  Winthrop  D.  Sheldon  to  be  .First  Sergeant  and 

Second  Lieutenant. 

Private    Origen  Parker  to  be  Sergeant. 
Privates  Amariah  Bailey, 

William  A.  Parmalee, 

William  G.  Martin, 

Edward  McCormick, 

Ambrose  W.  Hastings,  to  be  Corporals. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  121 

COMPANY    I. 

First  Sergeant  Charles  W.  Ely  to  be  Second  Lieutenant. 
Privates  James  R.  Matthews, 

John  N".  Watrous, 

Henry  Walton,  to  be  Corporals. 


COMPANY  K. 

First  Sergeant  William  Muhlner   to  be  Second  Lieu 
tenant. 

Corporal  Louis  Trappe  to  be  Sergeant. 
Private  Carl  H.  Hager  to  be  Corporal. 


122 


THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 


PIONEER    CORPS. 


A. 

Charles  J.  Morris. 

B. 

George  W.  Baldwin. 
Nelson  Yibbert. 

C. 

Sylvester  R.  Snow. 

D. 
Henry  E.  Smith. 

E. 
John  B.  Hartshorn. 


P. 

Elizur  E.  Page. 

G. 

Nelson  N.  Beecher. 

H. 

Edward  E.  Gamsby. 
David  Ford. 

I. 
Corporal  Henry  Walton. 

K. 

Adam  Rutz. 


ENLISTED    MEN 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS. 


125 


INFANTRY  COMPANY  A. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  SD,  1862. 

Sergeants. 

Richard  H.  Fowler, New-Haven. 

Nelson  S.  Wilmot, Orange. 

*Adelbert  P.  Munson, New-Haven. 

James  B.  Blair, " 

*  Alexander  H.  Coburn, " 

Corporals, 

*Henry  C.  Shelton, " 

*George  B.  Durrie, " 

William  C.  Peck, 

Wm.  A.  Goodwin,  Jr., 

*  William  II.  Merwin, 

William  C.  Tyler, 

*Robert  C.  Arnold, 

William  K.  Barlow, " 

Jlfusicians. 

Edward  P.  Donnelly, " 

Samuel  C.  Waldron, " 

Wagoner. 
George  A.  Bradley, " 

Privates. 

Ahern,  Otto, " 

Augur,  Charles  B., " 

*Ashdown,  George,    

*Backus,  Chester  H., 

Backus,  George  A., " 

*Ball,  Elbert  W., 

Barnes,  Henry  E., " 

*Barnes,  William  H., 

Bainbridge,  Henry  II., u 

*Best,  William, " 

*Bradley,  DeWitt  V., Orange. 

*Bradley,  George  H., New-Haven. 

Bradley,  Franklin, Orange. 

Bulkley,  Frederick, New-Haven. 

*Cowan,  Joseph  W., " 

Cornwall,  Wm.  H., " 

Dawson,  Frank  T., " 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


126  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

Dardelle,  Antonio, Clinton. 

Dibbel,  Samuel, " 

Doolittle,  Lewis  E., New-Haven. 

Doolittle,  Daniel  H., Bethany. 

Fairchild,  Augustus  B., New-Haven. 

*French,  Smith  B., Orange. 

*Fenn,  William  S., " 

*Fenton,  Frederick  B., New- Haven. 

Fox,  Simeon  J., " 

*Goodrich,  Miles  A., 

*Hopkins,  Sereno  A., " 

Hall,  Aaron  A., " 

Billiard,  Henry  B., " 

Billiard,  Lewis  F., " 

*Hilliard,  Samuel  J., Clinton. 

Hotchkiss,  Lauren  R., New-Haven. 

*Hofacker,  Conrad, " 

Hazzard,  Edward  C., " 

*Isbell,  Wyllis, 

Jacobs,  John, " 

Johnson,  Frank  A., " 

Lanman,  John  T., " 

Lindsley,  Charles  T., " 

Marks,  Treat  A., Milford. 

Merritt,  Charles  L., New-Haven. 

*Merrells,  John  W., " 

*Morris,  Charles  J., Orange. 

Potter,  Samuel  L., " 

*Ransom,  George, New-Haven. 

*Rice,  George  M., " 

*Rice,  Oliver  W., " 

*Scharff,  Augustus  A., " 

Scoville,  William  W., 

*Stannard,  Orson, " 

*Stevens,  Samuel  J., " 

Stevens,  Alonzo  H., Clinton. 

*Stevens,  Samuel  L  ,  Jr., " 

*Story,  Richard  L., New- Haven. 

*Storer,  George, " 

Thompson,  Joseph  B., Orange. 

*Thompson,  Sherw.  S., New-Haven. 

Tuttle,  Cyrus  W., Orange. 

Trowbridge,  George  T., " 

*  Wallace,  Robert  M., " 

Wallace,  Thomas  H., " 

Wilcox,  E.  LeRoy, New-Haven. 

Wright,  Williston  S., Orange. 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chaiicelloraville. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  127 

INFANTRY  COMPANY  B. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  3D,  1862. 

Sergeants. 

*Daniel  Averill,  2d, Branford. 

*Robert  B.  Goodyear, North-Haven. 

*Samuel  S.  Cook, Branford. 

Alonzo  F.  Hubhell, " 

*Billious  C.  Hall, Wallingford. 

Corporals. 

George  M.  Prout, Branford. 

Albert  Harrison, North  Branford. 

Samuel  Beach, Branford. 

Henry  D.  Boardman, North  Branford. 

*Charles  A.  Young, Branford. 

*Georgc  S.  Rogers, " 

George  G.  Wilford, " 

Isaac  K.  Hall, Wallingford. 

Musicians. 

Byron  Hill, " 

Henry  Z.  Nichols, Branford. 

Wagoner. 

Rudolphus  Bartholomew, " 

Privates. 

Baldwin,  George  C., " 

*Beach,  William  II., 

Bennett,  Joseph, " 

*Beach,  Harvey, " 

Bradshaw,  William, Wallingford. 

*Beaumount,  Harvey, 

*Backus,  Michael, 

*Baldwin,  George  W., Branford. 

Bunnell,  William, " 

Camp,  Henry  A., Wallingford. 

*Camp,  Joel, 

Condon,  Patrick, .... 

Condon,  John, ....    

Callahan,  Timothy, 

f  Gusher,  Joseph, Branford. 

*Dibble,  Elizur  B., " 

Dolph,  Edward  B., Wallingford. 

*Ennis,  James, 

Evans,  Thomas  H., 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsvllle. 
t  Taken  prisoner  at  Gettysburg. 


128  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

*Fowler,  Walter  E., Guilford. 

*Foster,  Andrew, New-Haven. 

Fairchild,  Douglass, Wallingford. 

Gallaghan,  William  J.,   " 

*Hubbard,  Henry  W., Branford. 

Hotchkiss,  John, " 

Hart,  Henry  F., « 

Higgs,  Israel, New-Haven. 

Half,  Roger, Branford. 

*Harrison,  Nathan, North  Branford. 

Holmes,  William  W., Wallingford. 

Johnson,  Josiah, North  Branford. 

*  Johnson,  Homer  R., Wallingford. 

*Kelsey,  Richard  T., Guilford. 

Kncringer,  Matthias, Branford. 

*Kennedy,  James, Wallingford. 

*Lamm,  Adam, North-Haven. 

*McGowen,  James, Wallingford. 

*0'Neil,  Michael, Branford. 

*0'Brien,  Thomas, North  Haven. 

*0'Brien,  Edward, Wallingford. 

*0'Brien,  John, Branford. 

*Palmer,  William  B., " 

Parsons,  Edwin  W., " 

Palmer,  Nathan  A., North-Haven. 

Paden,  Charles, Wallingford. 

*Page,  James  B., Guilford. 

Sheldon,  Edward  D., Branford. 

Stone,  Elizur  C., North  Branford. 

Smith,  Elbert  J., North-Haven. 

Sloman,  James, Wallingford. 

Shepard,  Harvey  G., Branford. 

*Tyler,  Obed  L., " 

*Taylor,  Michael, Wallingford. 

*Todd,  Kirtland, North-Haven. 

Todd,  Beri  M., New-Haven. 

Todd,  Henry  D., North-Haven. 

Tucker,  Lewis  M., Branford. 

Tyler,  William  A., " 

*Vibbert,  Nelson, Wallingford, 

Wilford,  Edwin  L., Branford. 

*Wheaton,  Merwin, North  Branford. 

*  Willis,  L.  Mortimer, Branford. 

Wallace,  William, Wallingford. 

*Wilder,  John  K., " 

Yale,  Solomon, Branford. 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 
t  Taken  prisoner  at  Gettysburg. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  129 

INFANTRY  COMPANY  C. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  4ra,  1862. 

Sergeants. 

Edward  H.  Carrington, New-Haven. 

*Edwin  B.  Baldwin, Milford. 

Henry  M.  Stanton, Norwalk. 

Francis  A.  Foster, Milford. 

Amos  N.  Beriton, Guilford. 

Corporals. 

Charles  E.  Cornwall, Milford. 

Oliver  S.  Bishop, Norwalk. 

*Joseph  L.  Stearns, New-Haven. 

*Agur  Wheeler, " 

Irad  Fuller, " 

Gilbert  A.  W.  Ford, " 

Charles  Hurlburt, " 

*Charles  S.  Beatty, Norwalk. 

Musicians. 

Horace  W.  Brocket!, New-Haven. 

Thomas  I.  Persons, " 

Wagoner. 
George  Kellogg, Norwalk. 

Privates. 

Ambler,  James  L., Norwalk. 

Baldwin,  Dennis  E., Milford. 

^Baldwin,  Roger  S., " 

Baird,  James  W., " 

Beard,  William  A., " 

*Beatty,  George  E., Norwalk. 

Beers,  Calvin  H., Guilford. 

Benjamin,  David  W., Milford. 

Bishop,  Edward  L., Guilford. 

Bristol,  John  M., New-Haven. 

*Bristol,  S.  Allen, Guilford. 

*Burton,  Henry, Milford. 

Bodwell,  William  L., Norwalk. 

*Brown,  John  T., " 

Clark,  Almond  E., Milford. 

Clark,  John  G., " 

Clark,  Joseph  R., " 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Cliancellorsville. 


130  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

Clark,  Samuel  B., Milford. 

Church,  William  W., Durham. 

*Conway,  William, Xew-Have.i. 

*Cornwall,  Frederick, Milford. 

*Denton,  Hart, Xorwalk. 

De  Witt,  Joseph  B., New- York 

Disbrow,  James  H., Xorwalk. 

*Dodge,  Jeremiah  R., Milford. 

Douglass,  George, Xew-Haven. 

Fitch,  Theodore, Xorwalk. 

*Ford,  Charles  W Milford. 

Graham,  William  W., " 

*Hallett,  Henry Xorwalk 

Hine,  George  W., Milford. 

*Hine,  Lewis, " 

Hubbell,  Allen  P., Xorwalk. 

* Jansen,  Albert, ....  Xew-Haven. 

Johnson,  David  T., 

Joyce,  Henry  E., " 

Lyman,  Chester, " 

*Lyman,  Henry  W., " 

Michael,  Charles, Milford. 

*Mulligan,  James, . Xew-Haven. 

Murphy,  Hector, " 

*Xash,  Olin, Xorwalk. 

Nash,  Wilbur, " 

Payne,  Elisha  T., " 

Parmele,  Joel  C., Guilford. 

Platt,  John, New-Haven. 

Plumb,  Sidney  H., Milford. 

Pike,  Lewis,   New-Haven. 

*Rogers,  George  E., Milford. 

Sanford,  John  F " 

*Smith,  Caleb, " 

*Snow,  Sylvester  R., Guilford. 

Stevens,  Joseph, Xew-Haven. 

Stowe,  Edgar  P., ....    Orange. 

*Talcott,  Samuel  T., Xew-Haven. 

Thompson,  Sidney  R., B-idgewater. 

Tibbals,  George  W., Milford. 

Tibbals,  James  S., " 

Treadwell,  George  E., Xew-IIavcn. 

Welch,  Lewis  M., Milford. 

Welton,  Harvey  S., Guilford. 

White,  Charles  E., Xorwalk. 

Wing,  Henry  E., 

*Wixon,  James  E., " 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS.  131 

INFANTRY   COMPANY  D. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  22D,  1862. 

Sergeants. 

Sewell  A.  Dodge, Xew-York. 

John  A.  Munson, Xew-Haven. 

Henry  B.  Hill, 

Benjamin  H.  Cobb, " 

*George  B.  Lego, " 

Corporals. 

Charles  Dodge, New-Haven. 

Fitch  M.  Parker, " 

Harvy  Brown, " 

William  S.  Peck Woodbridge. 

George  T.  Swank, Xew-York. 

George  W.  Barry, Xew-Haven. 

Augustus  T.  Freed, Xew-York. 

Andrew  J.  Barnard, Waterbury. 

Wagoner. 
Frank  Sanford, Xew-Haven. 

Privates. 

Bronson,  Spencer, Waterbury. 

Brockett,  Dwight  T., Xew-Haven. 

Bennett,  Edgar  H., Woodbridge. 

Burwell,  Arnold  T., Milford. 

Beecher,  George  E., Xew-Haven. 

Bowns,  Teunis, 

Craig,  Edward, 

Church,  Henry, 

Cady,  George  E., 

Cobb,  Alpheus  D., 

Clock,  Gilbert  L., 

Dunn,  Patrick, Wallingford. 

Eagan,  Thomas, Xew-Haven. 

Ford,  William  B., Bethany. 

Griffing,  Richard  II., Xew-Haven. 

Goodwill,  William, " 

Goodwin,  John, " 

Griswold,  Isaac, " 

Higgins,  Loren  M., " 

Hitchcock,  Dwight  L., Bethany. 

Hogan,  John, Xew-Haven. 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


132  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

Hotchkiss,  Lewis  W., Bethany. 

Hildreth,  Charles  B.,   New-Haven. 

Hildreth,  John  L., " 

Hitchcock,  Lewis, Bethany. 

Hitchcock,  Ransom, " 

Hipelius,  Frederick, Xew-IIaven. 

Judson,  Marcus  ()., " 

Jones,  William  II., " 

Johnson,  James, " 

Jewett,  Joseph  W., Prospect. 

Kent,  William  H., New-Haven. 

Keller,  Gilbert, 

Kahn,  William, 

Keeler,  Herbert  E., 

fKilcullen,  Thomas  M., 

f  Lee,  William, 

Lounsbury,  John  W., Bethany. 

Lowrie,  Robert, " 

Loop,  Charles  N., New- York. 

Mitchell,  John, Bethany. 

Mills,  William  C., 

Nichols,  Charles  H., 

Nichols,  Stephen  G.,   New  Haven. 

Phillips,  John, 

Potter,  Willis, 

Reuter,  William, 

Rogers,  Charles  A., : 

Robinson,  Lorenzo, 

Robertson,  James  M  , . 

*Smith,  Henry  E., 

Sperry,  Garry  B., 

Schrimper,  William, 

Schaner,  Paul, 

Sharpies,  Samuel, 

Scott,  William  0., Milf 


Tuttle,  Wesley  P., ... 


Tenner,  Richard  A.,. 

Torney,  Glaus, 

Taylor,  George  H., 

Thoman,  Philip, 

Talmadge,  Frederick  L., 

Thompson,  John, 

Williamson,  John  E.,. .  . 

Wilson,  William  E., New-York. 

Yale,  Thomas  G., New-Haven. 

t  Taken  prisoner  at  Gettyslnirg. 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  C'hancellorsville. 


Haven. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEELS.    '  133 

INFANTRY  COMPANY   E. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  22o,  1862. 

Sergeants. 

J.  Fletcher  Hermance, New-Haven. 

*Henry  N.  Horton, 

*Almarine  Hayward,    

*Chauncey  Hickox, 

John  D.  Sherwood, 

Corporals. 

*Frederiek  Lundbenr, New-Haven. 

*Charles  0.  West, 

*John  P.  Tyrrell, 

*Amos  J.  Herkins, ,      

Wm.  H.  Peckman, 

James  G.  Clinton, 

*George  T.  Dade, 

Frederick  G.  Bell, 

Musicians. 

Benjamin  E.  Brown, New-Haven. 

Wm.  L.  Parmalee, " 

Wagoner. 
Homer  W.  Fenn, Woodbridge. 

Privates. 

Andrews,  Gilead  T., New-Haven. 

Andrews,  Norris, .    " 

Bradley,  Joseph  W., Woodbridge. 

Brown,  George, New-Haven. 

Baldwin,  Edward  F., Woodbridge. 

Burke,  William, Cheshire. 

*Bradley,  Isaac, Woodbridge. 

^Baldwin,  Charles, " 

Bryan,  James  A., New-Haven. 

Behinger,  Julius, 

Castle,  Andrew  B., " 

Choisy,  Albert, " 

*Clemson,  George, Bridgewater. 

Carrol,  Timothy,    New-Haven. 

Dunning,  Edward  A., " 

Doran,  Philip, 

Demorest,  Charles, " 

Elliott,  William, " 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


134  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

Elkins,  George  W., New-Haven 

*Fuller,  Philo  S., " 

Fortunata,  Charles, " 

*Golden,  John  C., " 

Hartmann,  Conrad, " 

Hungerford,  George  W., " 

Henderson,  Charles  II., " 

*Homan,  Elisha  F., " 

*Hartshorn,  John  13., Orange. 

Holmes,  William, New-Haven. 

*Hickey,  William, « 

Hill,  Jahleel, Norwich. 

*Hagemeyer,  August, New-Haven. 

Hellgrau,  John, " 

*Munson,  William, North  Branford. 

McNeil,  William  S., New-Haven. 

Mansfield,  Frederick  0., « 

*McEvoy,  Edward, " 

*McHattie,  Thomas, " 

*Mabie,  Henry, Bridgewater. 

*Mabie,  James  H., " 

Orlemann,  Louis, New-Haven. 

*Patterson,  Robert  G., " 

*Paulscraft,  George, Bridgewater. 

Platt,  Cornelius, New-Haven. 

Rose,  Daniel, . . .  Wolcott. 

Rockwell,  David  S., New-Haven. 

*Rosha,  Adrian  C., Bethany. 

Ryan,  John  H., New-Haven. 

*Rice,  James  W., Bethany. 

Stein,  Frederick, Easton. 

*Squire,  John  H., Farmington. 

Stinson,  Avery, New-Haven. 

JStone,  Richard, " 

Smith,  Charles  F., " 

Sperry,  Charles, " 

JSperry,  John  M., " 

Smith,  James, " 

Schneider,  Jacob, 

Tuttle,  Henry  E., 

Thompson,  Edward, 

Woodward,  Seth, 

Wilson,  William, 

Warner,  Stephen  B., 

*Waldron,  Henry  0., 

Wilson,  John, 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 
$  Taken  prisoner  at  Fredericksburg. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  135 

INFANTRY  COMPANY    F. 

MUSTERED  IXTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  18TH,  18fi2. 

Sergeant*. 

Henry  A.  Barnes New-Haven. 

Daniel  Worcester, East-Haven. 

Charles  A.  Tuttle, 

Henry  D.  Russell, 

Stiles  L.  Beech, New-Haven. 

Corporals. 

Thomas  Ward, New-Haven. 

Elias  C.  Mix,  Jr., 

James  B.  Munson, 

*Alvan  B.  Rose, East-Haven. 

Albert  Bradley, 

Henry  W.  Clark, New-Haven. 

George  E.  Dudley, 

George  S.  Hine,. 

Musicians. 

Charles  W.  Wilcox, New-Haven. 

Charles  M.  Barnes, East-Haven, 

Wagoner. 

Charles  L.  Rowe, East-Haven, 

Privates. 

Allen,  John, East-Haven. 

Adams,  John, North  Branford. 

Burrell,  David, East-Haven. 

Brockett,  Lewis, 

Brockett,  George  E., North-Haven. 

Burwell,  A.  R., New-Haven. 

Barnes,  Andrew  J., 

Brady,  John, 

Bradley,  Rodney, East-Haven. 

Benton,  Edward  R., Guilford. 

Buckmaster,  Robert  S., New-Haven. 

Bristoll,  William  T., 

*Baldwin,  Theodore, Orange. 

Beecher,  Charles  L., 

Blakeslee,  William, New-Haven. 

Condon,  Morris, 

Crosby,  John, 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


136  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 

*Collins,  George  C.  H., New-Haven. 

Confrey,  Michael, « 

*Cady,  Arrah  B., Woodbury. 

Deming,  Calvin, East-Haven. 

Eddy,  Jairus  C., New-Haven. 

Fowler,  Edward  B., .E:ist-Haven. 

Farr,  Edward  B., IVew-Haven. 

Ferris,  Adam, " 

Fowler,  Samuel,  2d, Guilford. 

Goodsell,  Luzerne, New-Haven. 

Higgrns,  Charles,    East-Haven. 

Hope,  James  H., New-Haven. 

*Hopkins,  John  A., " 

Hemingway,  Willis  E., East  Haver. 

Judd,  Truman  0., North-Haven. 

Kelley,  William  A., East-Haven. 

Kelsey,  Henry  A., New-Haven. 

Leonard,  George  A., " 

Mallory,  Zina, East-Haven 

Mallory,  Lyman  A., " 

Marks,  Hobert  P., New-Haven. 

Meers,  Frank  B., " 

Munson,  Charles, " 

O'Neal,  Daniel, " 

Prout,  William, East-Haven. 

Potter,  Charles  E., " 

Potter,  Leverett, " 

*Page,  Elizur  E., .  . . North  Branford. 

Parmalee,  Smith, New-Haven. 

Russell,  Leonard, East-Haven. 

Robinson,  John  S., North  Branford. 

Richmond,  William  W., ....    New-Haven. 

Riggs,  Ranford, " 

Stebbins,  James, " 

Showles,  Jacob  J., " 

Talmadge,  Alson  L., " 

Tucker,  Dennis  W., North-Haven. 

Tuttle,  William  F., New-Haven. 

Treat,  Horace, Orange. 

Thomas,  Moses, New-Haven. 

Turner,  Edward  II., " 

Ward,  Joseph, Wallingford. 

Wharton,  John  E., New-Haven. 

Williamson,  James, " 

Wilcox,  Edward  T., " 

Wakelee,  Henry  C., " 

Wilmont,  Henry  F., " 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  137 

INFANTRY   COMPANY   G. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  22o,  1862. 

Sergeants. 

Solomon  II.  Wood, Meriden. 

Casper  S.  Gladwin, Haddam. 

George  W.  Taylor, Meriden. 

Allen  D.  Baldwin Orange. 

*Lucius  Kentfield, New-Haven. 

Corporals. 

And.  J.  Boardman,  Jr., East  Haddam. 

William  H.  Stannis, Meriden. 

*George  L.  Seymour, 

Collins  Upson, 

Gilbert  Upson, 

*Stiles  D.  Woodruff, Orange. 

Albert  J.  Puffer, Meriden. 

*  William  H.  Stewart, . New-Haven. 

Musicians. 

Thomas  W.  Crawford, Meriden. 

William  S.  Bronson, New-Haven. 

Wagoner. 
James  M.  Warner, Meriden. 

Privates. 

Bailey,  Harvey  E., Haddam. 

*Brinton,  Charles  P., Farmington. 

•  *Beecher,  Nelson  N  , New-Haven. 

Button,  Hosea  B., " 

Chapman,  John, East-Haddam. 

•  *Carter,  James  T ., Meriden. 

Clark,  Edwin  C., . . " 

Chatfield,  Edwin, Seymour. 

•  *Coe,  Nathan, Barkhamsted. 

-*Clark,  E.  Beach,    New-Haven. 

*Clark,  Albertus  N., Orange. 

•  *Calkins,  Arthur  B., New-Haven. 

Charters,  Lucian  W., " 

Clarke,  Everett  B., Orange 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


138  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 

•  *Dunbar,  Peter, New-Haven. 

Eggleston,  Augustus, Barkhamsted. 

'  *Fergurson,  William  J., Meriden. 

Fowler,  Frank, New-Haven. 

•  *Gladwin,  Frank  0., Meriden. 

Glynn,  Patrick, New-Haven. 

.  *Grant,  Joseph, Meriden. 

Griffin,  John, New-Haven. 

Harvey,  Amos  S., East-Haddam. 

Harding,  Charles, New-Haven. 

Holcomb,  Charles  F., " 

Hartley,  William, « 

Isbell.  Harlow  R., Meriden. 

Kinsey,  Charles  P., New-Haven. 

Lowell,  Reuben  W., ....    Meriden. 

Lomax,  Thomas, New-Haven. 

•  *Miles,  Wallace  A., Meriden. 

Marsh,  Florence  II., New-Haven. 

Merrill,  Martin, Orange. 

Merwin,  Edwin  F., New-Haven. 

Onthrup,  Henry  H., " 

Pierpont,  J.  Evelyn, " 

Russell,  Stephen  D Orange. 

•  *Russell,  William  M., " 

•  *Sanford,  Andrew  H., New-Haven. 

'  *Spellman,  James Seymour 

•  *Skinner,  Edwin  F., East-Haddam. 

•  *Symonds,  Charles  A., Meriden. 

Sedgwick,  Henry,. " 

Steel,  Edward  J.,   " 

Smith,  Henry, Chester. 

Scobie,  William  C., New-Haven. 

•  *Smith,  Charles  F., Orange. 

Snow,  Albert  H., New-Haven. 

Sliney,  David, Branford. 

Treat,  Charles  H., Orange. 

.  *Treat,  Thelua  C., , " 

Yale,  Merritt  A., ....    New-Haven. 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS.  139 

INFANTRY    COMPANY    II. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  22o,  18G2. 

Sergeants. 

Thomas  E.  Barrett, New-Haven. 

Wareham  A.  Morse, 

*Simeon  Smith 

Frederick  E.  Monson, 

*William  H.  Alden, 

Corporals. 

*David  S.  Eldridge, New-Haven. 

Samuel  Lloyd, 

*Henry  F.  Peck, 

Edgar  S.  Dowd, 

Henry  J.  Beecher, 

Frank  E.  Ailing, 

George  I.  Judson, 

George  H.  Mimmack,   

Musicians. 

William  J.  Gore, New-Haven. 

Willie  P.  Downs, 

Wagoner. 
Leander  F.  Johnson, Madison. 

Privates. 

Ailing,  Charles  L  ,   New-Haven. 

Arndt,  Carl, 

*Atwood,  Joseph, 

Barnes,  Henry  A., 

*Beach,  George  H., 

Benham,  Henry  E., 

Benham,  Silas, 

Benham,  James  W., ' 

Braddock,  James, 

*Bailey,  Amariah, 

Boyle,  Edward, Wall  ngford. 

*Carroll,  Frank, , New  Haven. 

*Cashman,  Thomas, 

*Chamberlin,  M.  N 

Covert,  Alexander  H., 

*Dade,  Charles  J., 

Davis,  Bronson  F., 

Davis,  Wells  R., 

*Doty,  William, 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


140 


THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH 


Dennison,  William, New-Haven. 

Dewire,  Timothy, Harwinton. 

Ford,  Charles  A., New-Haven. 

*Ford,  David, " 

Ford,  William  C., 

Fay,  Charles, 

Friend,  Joseph, 

Gamsby,  Edward  E 

Gay,  William  B., 

*Grant,  William  R., 

*  Hastings,  Ambrose  W., 

f  Hine,  Samuel, 

Johnson,  Alphonso  0., . .   Ora  ge. 

*Kinney,  William  C., New  laven. 

*Mansfield,  Edward  G., 

*Martin,  William  G., 

*McCormick,  Edward, 

McGinnis,  John  J., 

McDougal,  George  J., 

*Miller,  Richard, 

^Morgan,  John, 

Moses,  William  W., 

Merwin,  Frank  L., 

Olmsted,  Marvin, 

*Palmer,  Richard, 

*Parker,  Origen, 

*Parmalee,  William  A., 

Peterson,  Ernest  A., 

*Quinn,  Cornelius, Harw  nton. 

Rawson,  John, New  Haven. 

Riker,  John  E., 

*Robinson,  Augus.  R  , 

Rogers,  Joseph  A., 

Ryan,  James, 

Sawyer,  Lester  J  , 

Seward,  Silas  W.,    

*Sheldon,  Winthrop  D., 

Spencer,  John  R 

Sperry,  Edward  M 

Smith,  Hezekiah  P., 

Tomlinson,  Peter, Derb 

*Tanner,  Norman  A., New-Haven. 

*Tuttle,  Henry  C., 

Ure,  Byron, .... 

*Whitney,  Willinm  M., 

Willoughby,  John, 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville.  t  Taken  prisoner  at  Gettysburg. 

$  Taken  prisoner  at  Fredericksburg. 


CONNECTICUT    VOLUNTEERS.  141 

INFANTRY    COMPANY    I. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  22o,   18C2. 

Sergeants. 

Charles  W.  Ely, Madison. 

James  Brand New-Haven. 

*  William  B.  Hunter, Madison. 

*Wm.  B.  Crampton, " 

*Thornas  S.  Field, " 

Corporals. 

Henry  B.  Wilcox, " 

William  Hunter,    Xew-Haven. 

Corydon  N.  Thomas, Madison. 

William  G.  Hill, New-Haven. 

*Henry  H.  Smith, " 

James  S.  Brockett, " 

*George  E.  Wheaton, Madison. 

Judson  H.  Dowd, " 

Musicians. 

Eugene  A.  Chatfield, New-Haven. 

A.  Button  Hall, " 

Wagoner. 
Sidney  W.  Buck, " 


Privates. 

Adams,  Edward  P., "\Ycthersfield. 

Bean,  William  II., New-Haven. 

Beckwith,  George  W., " 

*Bailey,  Frederick  F., Madison. 

Bailey,  John  B " 

Beach,  Francis  E., New-Haven. 

*Blake,  Edson  S., Madison. 

Bulkeley,  Henry, Vernon. 

*Crane,  John  N., New-Haven. 

*Cutler,  Charles  L., 

Crummy,  Dennis Seymour. 

Calkins,  Henry  D., New-Haven. 

^Dickinson,  William  J. 

*Dorman,  Joel  H  , " 

*Day,  Thomas, Madison. 

Doane,  Alvah  R., " 

*Dowd,  James  Hull, " 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chancellorsville. 


142  THE    TWENTY-SEVENTH 


*Dowd,  James  E., Madison. 

*Dowd,  Timothy  A.,. " 

Dudley,  Sylvester  S., " 

Dudley,  Laneellotte,   " 

Eckhart,  Joseph  M., " 

*Farren,  George  L., New-Haven. 

*Faughnan,  John, " 

Foote,  Wallace  J., " 

*Field,  Samuel  J., Madison. 

^Foster,  Frank " 

*  Fitzgerald,  Michael, Bethany. 

*Gould,  Jonathan  H., New-Haven. 

Hine,  Albert  H., " 

Howd,  Henry  C., " 

Heitman,  Adrian  C  , " 

Hall,  Selden, Madison. 

*Hill,  George  S., « 

Hill,  Horace  0., " 

*Hopson,  Addison  A., " 

*Hull,  Frederick  W., " 

Hull,  Joseph, " 

Kane,  James, Newtown. 

*Lee,  James, New-Haven. 

*Meigs,  Timothy  A  , Madison. 

Matthews,  James  R., New-Haven. 

Norton,  George  W., Madison. 

Norton,  Joseph  R., " 

*Norton,  William  S., " 

Phile,  William  M., New-Haven. 

*Price,  William  W., " 

^Patterson,  William  E  , " 

Pentelow,  Thomas, Madison. 

Rolf,  Henry, " 

*Ryan,  Patrick, Seymour. 

*Smith,  Samuel  S.,    Madison. 

*Smith,  Frederick  M., New-Haven. 

*Scranton,  Daniel  F., Madison. 

Shelley,  Rufus  S " 

*Spencer,  James  E., " 

Spencer,  Thomas  J., Clinton. 

Thompson,  James  E., New-Haven. 

Thompson,  Julius, " 

*Watrous,  John  N., Madison. 

Watrous,  Julian  F., " 

*  Walton,  Henry, New-Haven. 

Yemmans,  William  H., Litehfield. 

*  Young,  Charles  H., Madison. 

*  Taken  prisontr  at  Chancellorsville. 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS. 


143 


INFANTRY   COMPANY  K. 

MUSTERED  INTO  UNITED  STATES  SERVICE  OCTOBER  18m,  1862. 

Sergeants. 

William  Muhlner, Ne^v-Haven. 

Louis  Oppertshauser, " 

i  *George  Nichtern, " 

>.  *Frederick  Buchholz, " 

^  *Charles  Weidig, " 

Corporals. 

'  *Louis  Trappe, " 

•*Jobn  Boehm, 

Henry  Hoffman,.    u 

Gustus  Yogt u 

Auguste  Ilalfinger, 

^  *Peter  Schmidt, 

Carl  Wunsch, 

•  *Henry  Yogt, " 

Musicians. 

*  Wilbur  F.  Calkins, 

*Charles  Spreyer, kt 

Wagoner. 
Chas.  W.  Praetorius, " 

Private*. 

•  *Baers,  William, « 

•*Beahring,  William, 

Bernhardt,  Wm.  F.,    

•  *Bauer,  George, "• 

•  *Baumer,  Matthias, 

Bruning,  William  L., u 

Becker,  Charles, " 

Cabanis,  Albert t% 

•  *Dobel,  Frederick, " 

•  *Eckle,  George, '• 

s  *Frank,  Louis " 

'   *Ganser,  Andrew, u 

Gunther,  George,. 'k 

Gunther,  Michael, .  .  " 

•  *Glamtner,  Joseph, 

Hermann,  John  G., " 

Herman,  Jacob, u 

*  Tal.cn  in-isoner  at  CUr.ctllorfvU.e. 


144  THE   TWENTY-SEVENTH. 

*  *Hauserman,  Michael, New-Haven. 

Ilaiden,  William, " 

*  *Hartung,  Frank, " 

*  *Hager,  Carl  II., " 

'  *Hegel,  John, 

•  *Henkel,  Frederick,  ....    " 

Huber,  Anton, 

*  *Huber,  John, " 

.  *Kuhrasch,  August, " 

Kraus,  Frank, Hamdcn. 

Knecht,  John, New-Haven. 

Kessel,  John, 

Kramer,  Jacob, " 

Klein,  Ernst, 

Lange,  Carl, 

Lacombe,  Arthur, " 

Miller,  Joseph  A., " 

'  *Miller,  Frederick, 

Miller,  Carl  C., 

**Munzing,  Martin, " 

Marazin,  Emmanuel, u 

Michou,  August, 

•*Meyer,  Henry, 

Mai,  August, 

Otto,  Emil 

•  *Pfleger,  Ferdinand, 

Reuthe,  Ernst, 

f  *Rutz,  Adam, 

'  *Richter,  August, 

Reinhart,  John, 

Ridel,  Joseph, 

Rohrbeck,  Albert, 

T*Strobel,  Constantino, 

Schmidt,  John, 

Schmidt,  Joseph, 

'  *  Schaffner,  John, 

*  *Schmidt,  Charles, 

Sievert,  Frederick, 

Somers,  Cyrus, 

Schenck,  Paul, Branford. 

Timm,  Henry  C., New-Haven. 

.  *Thesing,  Frederick, " 

•  *  Urban,  Rudolph " 

•  *Vander  Brake,  Wm., Hamden. 

Victor,  Jean, New-Haven. 

Welch,  Martin, 

Werner,  Albert, 

*  Taken  prisoner  at  Chance'.lorsville. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


:C'D  LD 

FEB  1 5  1961 


LD  21A-50m-4,'60 
(A9562slO)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


M198520 

s?1* 



THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


